Tears of My Heart
by Miss Peg
Summary: Naomi, Emily and Gina invite Cook to stay when he gets out of prison. When the past catches up with them, everyone goes through an emotional journey which will change their lives forever. Naomi/Emily
1. Chapter 1

**Author: **Miss Peg

**Warnings:** Lots of swearing and a bit of violence.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Skins...ah well.

**Summary: **When Cook gets out of prison having served time for absconding, he moves in with Naomi, Emily and Gina. After the death of his mother, Cook is faced with questions about his past. With Naomi's help, they go on an emotional journey which results in a revelation that could change both of their lives.

**Notes:** _Written for the __**Skins Big Bang **__on LiveJournal. If you want to see the art made for this story, visit my LiveJournal, link in my profile, name on there is miss_peg. _I am so glad that I finally took the time to write this story. I'd had it in my head for over a year and even posted it/started writing it once, before realising that it needed more time than I was able to give it. I'm so proud of finally finishing it.

A massive thank you to **tromana**, who has literally been my everything throughout this whole process. My beta, my cheerleader, my ideas bouncer, without you I don't think I'd have got through. Nor would I have the amazing art that you made for me. It's been a pleasure to do all of that for you too, in return.

**Tears of My Heart - Part One**

The automatic door swung open in front of him and before he could even think about what was happening, he found himself stood on a path with the taste of freedom eating up his insides. He walked along the concrete slabs, noticing the weeds growing up and out of the gaps. Tiny red spider-like insects crawled across the surface like prisoners in the yard, who were watched from high above, no real purpose to their actions, just the occasional pint of blood spilled.

He stopped by the gate and waited for it to open. The metal frame raised high above the ground, protected by CCTV and various forms of spikes and barbed wire. It even looked like a prison. From the inside it was different and at times he forgot he was trapped there. It became home, a weird sort of home where you got a black eye once in a while. His hair was a little longer than it had been when he went in, curled up at the edges and almost covering his ears. There was something different about his eyes; duller, less life and a little bit lost.

Naomi watched from the car park. The muscular body of her best friend was now larger and more filled out than before, he'd grown. She stood up straight, stopped relying on the car for support and began to walk slowly across the concrete ground beneath her feet. Under any other circumstance she would probably have slapped him, or not turned up at all, but she owed him.

'Naomikins,' he growled, his voice a tone deeper and more robust than before. He sounded more mature too, wise beyond his years. That's what prison probably did to people, Naomi noted, wrapping her arms around him.

'It's so good to see you, Cook.'

'James.'

'What?'

'New start.'

The drive back to the house was silent. Cook stared out of the window, watching the world pass by quickly, he didn't care. He could watch the world at any speed now; fast, slow, supersonic if he really wished. As time progressed, he became giddier and giddier. His excitement was growing as the prospect of freedom grew more tangible by the 'd almost forgotten what the outside world looked like; how green the leaves were on the trees, how a tobacco filled car smelled and how bright the sun could be when it shone down upon a windscreen.

'You sure she doesn't mind?'

''Course not,' Naomi muttered, focusing her attention on the road ahead.

'Top bird is Gina.'

When they came to a stop outside an end-terrace, Cook didn't move. He remembered the last time he was there; climbing out the bathroom window and running off down the side streets. It felt like a lifetime ago. Naomi got out first and opened his door. He stared at her. Gestures were something he hadn't witnessed for months. No need for them in prison, who wanted to be kind to each other anyway? The confusion on his face worried Naomi. She didn't know what to expect. Would he be the same person he was before? She doubted that. She held the door and tilted her head at him with assurance.

'Thanks, Blondie.'

They walked side by side up to the gate, Naomi walked in ahead with his bag in her hand. He let her carry it, not really sure what else to do. He'd spent months being told how to act, where to go and now he didn't know how to be any different.

'Welcome back, Cook,' a husky voice greeted him from the doorway; he looked towards her, his eyes sparkling a little. An exchanged glance with Naomi told her that she was to inform them of his name change; that he didn't really want to repeat himself. She nodded her agreement.

'Emilio,' he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin against her shoulder. Prison taught him to expect nothing; seeing Naomi, Emily and even Gina there smiling at him broke through his expectations and left him speechless. He hugged them all in turn, ending once again on Naomi.

'Your room's at the top of the stairs on the left,' Gina informed him. 'There're some towels on the bed if you want to grab a shower.'

Cook was taken aback, surprised by the level of support he was receiving for simply getting out of prison. Not even his birthdays had been celebrated with that level of care and attention. Emily and Naomi knew what he'd done; he didn't think Gina did though. He smiled at them all, picked up his small bag and carried it towards the stairs. He turned, and nodded at them all.

'Thanks.'

xxx

Being driven by guilt was a bad thing according to Emily. Naomi wasn't sure. She lay awake considering her decision and the ramifications. Cook needed someone; his mum had given up on him and no one had been able to get hold of her, even Freddie had disappeared without a trace over a year ago. They were the only people Cook had left. There was no one else he could rely on. She owed him. Not just a year's prison sentence, but her future. She knew his looked bleak now; his criminal record would make it hard for him to get a job. Whereas she'd spent a year with Emily, travelling around India, volunteering at a soup kitchen and working two crappy jobs in preparation for the start of uni.

'Go to sleep,' Emily moaned as she turned over for what must have been the fifteenth time. Naomi wrapped her arms around her and snuggled against her side.

An hour later and she still hadn't slept. Emily was dozing beside her, her heavy breathing a continuous drone that made her smile. She hated being unable to sleep, more so when Emily wasn't awake too. When she was, it didn't matter.

'Go for a walk,' Emily suggested in a sleepy tone.

Naomi climbed out of bed and pulled on some clothes. She didn't really want to walk, but the hours spent awake left her nicotine deprived and she hated keeping Emily from her sleep. She carried a packet of cigarettes out into the garden where she perched on an upturned plant pot and lit up.

'Giv's a fag.'

Out of the shadows Cook appeared, one half of his face lit up by the moon making him appear more frightening. If she'd met him for the first time in that very same situation she'd probably have called the police, after running inside and locking the door. Not only did he make her jump out of her skin, but he looked like a criminal too. He wore the grey jumper and sweat pants he'd left the prison wearing. He probably didn't own very many clothes, she considered.

'Don't fucking scare me,' she snapped, throwing a cigarette on the floor at his feet.

'Cheers.'

'What you gonna do now?' she asked, a question she'd wanted an answer to the moment he got out. She wanted him to have a plan, a way of getting out of his situation as soon as possible. The thought was a selfish one, but she felt guilty. She had done from the beginning when he told her of his plan. What option did she have but to accept? Plenty. She knew that now. She could have spoken to her mum, explained what had happened and asked for her help; or the counsellor at college. Anything other than letting Cook take the blame.

'I did it for you, Blondie,' he muttered, lighting up the cigarette and taking a deep tobacco filled breath. 'I was already in trouble. The way I see it, I did time for the both of us and you, you get to have a life like you deserve.'

'But it was my fault. I asked you to get me the drugs. I sold them to her. It's my fault she died.'

'And I accepted. Prison ain't a place for people like you Naomikins! It's 'ard. You 'ave to do things you regret, things that out 'ere would get you put inside.'

'I deserved it.'

'Nah, you di'nt deserve it and neither did Ems or Gina. Think about them. I ain't got a family, no one to disappoint. So what's it matter?'

'But.'

'No more Naomi. You're my best friend. Friends help each other out. Know what I mean?'

When she finished smoking, she stubbed out the cigarette and tossed it onto a pile of others. She made a note to clean it up more often, especially with Cook around. She didn't go back inside. She hadn't had an answer to her question and though she didn't want to repeat herself, she wasn't ready to give up on him just yet.

'There's something I've gotta do,' he said, perching on a wall. 'My mum died while I was inside.'

'Oh, I'm sorry Co, James.'

'Nah, don't be, bitch had it coming. She weren't even my mum, not really,' he reached into his pocket. 'Got a letter sent to me, they found it in her stuff from some woman called Reggie, says she's my real mum.'

'Shit, Cook,' Naomi gasped, standing up and taking the crumpled envelope that he held out for her. 'I mean, James.'

The envelope contained a handwritten letter in carefully scribed text, like something written for a calligraphy lesson at school, not the woman who had taken in her son. She unfolded the sheet of paper slowly, curious, yet daunted by the words within. The sides of the page were worn as though held many times before. Naomi glanced at Cook, who watched her as she looked back down and read the letter.

'Please bring my boy back to me, Reggie,' she concluded, her previously steady hands now shaking. 'Christ, James, what are going to do?'

'Dunno babe, think I gotta find out who Reggie is. Problem is, where do I start?'

Naomi folded the letter back up and returned it to its envelope, which she pushed back into Cook's hands. How could she help him? She didn't know how to find missing people, least of all stray parents you didn't even know existed.

'I understand,' he nodded, carelessly shoving the envelope back into his pocket.

'I want to,' she said, letting out a sigh. 'I don't know what good I'll be.'

'But you'll help?' she nodded. 'That's all I want, help.'

She lit up another cigarette, in dire need of something to distract her from the mix of guilt and shock. She tossed another to Cook who smoked it quickly, then handed him the rest of her packet. She'd buy some more in the morning. Then she left him sat out there and returned to her room. The lights were still turned off but she could make out Emily's silhouette, sitting up in the bed.

'What's wrong?' Emily asked into the darkness.

What isn't wrong? Naomi wanted to say, but when she opened her mouth she realised how terrible it sounded. How hurt Emily would be if she said it. Everything wasn't wrong and she did believe that, underneath everything.

'I'm fine.'

Despite the dark, Naomi could tell Emily was staring at her with disapproval. She'd tried it many times; lying to her about small things, keeping her feelings to herself. Every time Emily had caught her out as though she knew, without asking, without tripping her up. She considered the possibility that Emily was a superhero who could read thoughts, despite knowing it was mostly down to the tone of her own voice.

'Really, Emily, I'm okay. I just have a few Cook issues.'

'Trying to sleep with you already?' Emily joked.

Naomi climbed into the bed beside her and wrapped her arms around Emily's waist. She kissed her cheek, her neck, distracting her from everything she didn't want to think about.

'The only person I want to sleep with here is you.'

'Good.'

The light touch of Emily's fingers, tracing across her now bare shoulders, left a shiver down her spine. Emily had a way of awakening her body with her hands, setting her soul on fire as she brushed patterns onto her skin with the tips of her fingers. Naomi returned the favour in kisses along her collar bone and whispered words portraying how much she not only loved Emily but wanted her and needed her too. Under her touch, Naomi's back arched and her hands grasped the bed sheets around her, reacting to Emily's touch as she let out muffled screams for only Emily to hear. After returning the favour she found her mind erased, everything she'd worried about floated off into oblivion with her previous self and in Emily's arms she fell into a deep slumber.

xxx

As if like clockwork, Naomi awoke in the small hours of the morning, in dying need of a cigarette. She uncurled Emily's arms from around her body and kissed her softly on the cheek before slipping into some clothes and walking downstairs. It had happened every night at the same time since Cook came to stay and Naomi could do nothing but comply. She recovered her packet of cigarettes from the kitchen drawer and lit one up the moment the back door had been opened.

'Evening Blondie,' Cook greeted her from the shadows. After the first night he'd scared her just once more before she became accustomed to him lurking. The moon had shifted in that time and that night, it shone down from above, leaving most of Cook's face in darkness.

'Is this your fault?' she moaned, stretching and yawning. 'I don't normally smoke at night.'

'Nothing to do with me.'

They got their nicotine fix in near silence; Naomi sat on her upturned plant pot whilst Cook stood a distance away. There wasn't a need for words, never had been really; until Naomi found herself with questions on her mind.

'Can't sleep?'

'Nah, it's too quiet.'

She frowned, listening carefully to the noises around them. She could hear a car driving in the distance, a neighbour a few doors down playing music and the soft droning of the electricity sub-station at the end of the road. She wouldn't have called it too quiet.

'Never heard of someone not being able to sleep because of that.'

'You ain't been inside babe,' Cook justified, running a hand through the back of his hair. She couldn't believe how long it was or how much it suited him curled at the ends, 'Can't get any peace in there. Out here, it's too peaceful. Does my head in.'

The peace was disrupted by a loud clatter coming from the far end of the patio. Cook jumped, twisted round quickly and looked into the darkness. Fear had become apparent in the way he held himself bigger, like an animal warding off a predator. Naomi bit her lip to stop herself from laughing, but she couldn't help it.

'What's so funny?'

'You, getting scared by mum's pet.'

He moved across the patio towards a small enclosure, squinting in the dark to make out the small animal roaming around and nibbling at the contents of its upturned food bowl. Naomi followed him and they watched it sniffing around, cloaked in darkness.

'Stupid fucking rodent scared the shit out of me.'

'Don't let Gina hear you say that.'

'What the fuck is it anyway? A rat?'

'Guinea pig.'

She stubbed out her cigarette, tossed it aside and opened the door to the run. Scooping up the black and honey coloured creature into her arms she tried to remember a time she had been active at night; as far as she knew she slept like the rest of them. In her arms, Wanda stayed whilst she stroked her soft fur. In her early years she'd had a cat that ran away before she started school, she'd never had the desire to own a hamster or goldfish like everyone else. But as she ran a hand over Wanda's back, she remembered what she liked about the cat, the repeated action leaving her active mind calm.

'What would anyone want with a guinea pig?'

Naomi let out a small laugh and rolled her eyes. 'When mum and Kieran split up she decided she was finished with men. She tried to go for women instead but I wouldn't let her, so we compromised on a guinea pig named Wanda. It's her companion.'

'Thought that were dogs.'

'Mum hates walking, Wanda can get as much exercise as she likes out here and we're not cleaning dog hairs out of everything we own.'

Cook passed her a second cigarette, which she declined. She was trying to cut back, or had been until Cook returned. Social smoking was her downfall and she knew she could rarely pass up a chance of a free cigarette. Instead she made her excuses, placed the animal back in its hutch and disappeared inside before she could change her mind. Emily was still sleeping when she climbed back into bed, until her nose began twitching and she became restless in her sleep.

'Where've you been?'

'Just getting some fresh air,' Naomi assured her, wrapping her arms back around her body and slipping down under the covers.

'You're cold.'

'I know, go to sleep.'

Emily sunk back into her arms; her breath becoming deep and shallow in an instant. Naomi stroked red hair back from Emily's closed eyes and pushed her face against her neck. The thing she loved the most about her late night appointments with Cook was not the cigarettes, or the company, it was returning to Emily afterwards.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author: **Miss Peg

**Warnings:** Lots of swearing and a bit of violence.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Skins...ah well.

**Summary: **When Cook gets out of prison having served time for absconding, he moves in with Naomi, Emily and Gina. After the death of his mother, Cook is faced with questions about his past. With Naomi's help, they go on an emotional journey which results in a revelation that could change both of their lives.

**Notes:** _Written for the __**Skins Big Bang **__on LiveJournal. Thanks to those who reviewed the first chapter. Always welcome and/or appreciate more reviews, constructive or otherwise._

**Tears of My Heart - ****Part Two**

He'd lost the feeling in his foot twenty minutes ago when he'd hit it with the spade, but as he always had done, he kept on working. The garden wasn't going to get dug up on its own and though Gina helped him a little, she seemed happier arranging the seeds and flowers ready for planting. He didn't think he liked gardening. He'd never had any opportunity to do it.

'You sure you want the whole place dug up Gina?'

'Yes,' she said, separating a group of flowers they'd bought from the garden centre an hour before. 'I usually take a few out and replace them, this year I want to start from scratch.'

'It's hard work,' he noted, wiping his face with the back of his hand, something he regretted as he felt dirt stick to his face.

'You'll get paid James, I already told you that.'

He hesitated, resting his body weight against the spade which sunk slowly into the earth. Payment didn't matter; really, the work he did on the garden was the least he could do for having a roof over his head. Gina had made it clear that she didn't expect him to pay his way with money; after all, she knew he had very little.

'I know and I appreciate it like,' he mumbled, pressing down on the spade with his foot as he turned over the dirt. 'It's just tough.'

'Young man like you with muscles like that,' Gina raised an eyebrow at him and he couldn't help but smile.

He'd done nothing to deserve her kindness, except make her the odd brew. He wondered if she'd wanted to help out, or whether Naomi had influenced her decision. Naomi had once told him that Gina loved a house full of strangers and that she opened it up at least once a year to waifs and strays.

As each breath became harder and his heart raced along in his chest, he dropped the spade down on the ground and sat on top of the pile of dirt he'd built.

'Should probably lay off the fags.'

'We all have our vices,' Gina uttered, standing the spade back up in the ground.

'Not you. Naomi says you don't smoke and only have a drink at Christmas.'

'Everyone has vices. I drink more cups of tea in a day than most have in a week and I have a biscuit tin hidden in my wardrobe full of Garibaldis.'

'Ain't they Naomi's favourites?' he asked, pulling his shirt over his head until the gentle breeze reached his skin and his body temperature cooled considerably.

'Who do you think gave her them in the first place?'

'Classy.'

Gina watched him struggle with every breath; she should have expected it really. Kieran had smoked like a chimney and always ended up in the same sorry state whenever she asked him to help out around the house. She finished organising her flowers before taking a look around the garden. He didn't have much left to do.

'When you're done with the flower beds we should go inside for a snack, I don't want you keeling over.'

'I'm fine, really I am,' he said, wiping his hands with his shirt and throwing it onto the concrete slabs covering the patio. 'Wouldn't mind a drink though.'

'You get back to work and I'll go make us some tea.'

'Nah, nah, Gina,' he protested, holding his hands up demandingly. 'I don't drink tea. Purely coffee.'

'Surely you know by now that I don't have coffee in my kitchen.'

'Then what the fuck have I been drinking all week?' he gasped, a feeling of sickness sitting in the bottom of his stomach.

'Probably one of my blends.'

'Ain't it all just leaves and shit?'

'You could put it that way.'

Tea never appealed to Cook, he had been brought up by a mother who loathed a day without coffee. When he lived with his grandpa in the summer they'd survived mostly on beer, even if he was only twelve. His lips curled at the edges as he considered the boxes full of various brews that he'd helped organise with Gina the day before, he couldn't even remember half the names she'd come out with.

'Ever tried brewing weed?'

'All the time when I was your age.'

'Wouldn't happen to have any in that magic tea cupboard of yours?' he asked, itching for something stronger than the tobacco in his cigarettes.

'I stopped smoking it when I got pregnant,' Gina informed him, she turned away, uncomfortably. Not once had she lectured Naomi about the dangers of weed, she knew her daughter well enough to know that she, too, would one day give it up for a more adult lifestyle. 'You'll realise eventually James that responsibilities are more important than getting high.'

'Fuck that,' he snapped, agitated by her been there, done that attitude. That had been the biggest challenge with being inside, having people constantly ramming their experiences down his throat, like he fucking cared. 'I'd rather splash about.'

'As long as you're looking for a job and will pay your way, you can do what the fuck you please.'

She wasn't so bad really, Gina. She knew how to treat a person like an adult without forcing them to see things her way. He knew she hadn't meant it quite like that. He had to remind himself not to allow his buttons to be pushed. Violence had no place in the Campbell house; it wasn't prison, after all. He was free and Gina was more than willing to accommodate that.

'Always knew you were a top bird Gina.'

xxx

'Let's go fucking mental!'

Cook stood up and poured his drink down his throat, not caring that half of it trickled down his chin and landed on his shirt. He picked up a second and did the same, waving his arms around as he jeered loudly.

'I've fucking missed this I 'ave.'

'Being in a pub?'

'Nah Emilio man; drinking, being with mates, getting _fucked_!'

There was no doubt that the night would be big. The longer they sat watching Cook down beer and shots, the harder it was not to laugh. The last year had been different, quieter than any of them would have liked, not that they admitted it. Everyone missed Freddie and Cook and once in a while they gathered together to have a drink in their names, but they hadn't taken things to the extreme in the same way that Cook did. Emily rolled her eyes as he did three shots in a row and lifted his shirt over his head like a footballer.

'Put it away,' Naomi groaned, poking him in the stomach.

'Yes James,' JJ began matter-of-factly. 'Contrary to popular belief on your part, your body is not a temple and you are not irresistible to everyone. In fact, out of the six other people here tonight, at least half of us wouldn't ever think of your body as anything. I'm pretty sure Katie has always been repulsed by you, which leaves Effy and Karen. Both of them have been there and done that. I suspect neither would be willing to go back.'

'Shut up Jaykins.'

'Okay.'

The group went silent and Cook dragged Naomi away from the table, she resisted at first until he gave her a small nod. She removed Emily's arm from her waist, kissed her hand and moved out from the table. He'd always looked up to them as the most stable relationship in his life, even when they were effectively apart, they were technically together. Despite wanting to shag Naomi, he knew what really mattered and that was her relationship with Emily.

'Don't forget the crisps,' JJ shouted after them.

Cook tapped the bar impatiently with his fingers, alternating between them and his knuckles in rhythm. He'd never really been nervous before, not since his court date twelve months earlier. He smiled at Naomi, hoping that she'd understand from such a small glance. She smiled back and reached a hand across the bar, taking hold of his fingers and squeezing his hand gently.

'What can I get you Cook?' Uncle Keith asked, raising an eyebrow at the joined hands between them.

'Nothing if you're gonna keep calling me that.'

'Don't be a tosser,' he said in response, shaking his head. 'You're Cook, getting out of prison ain't gonna change that.'

'Fuck off.'

'James,' Naomi rested her hand on his shoulder, recognising the direction the conversation was going. They didn't have time for pissing about and Naomi wasn't going to let him regret the night.

'We need to ask you about Reggie.'

'Who?'

'Don't play dumb Keith,' Naomi warned, resting her money on the bar. 'We need another round and anything you can tell us about James's real mother.'

'I don't know what you're talking about love, Ruth was his mother. That's all anybody needs to know.'

Cook tensed beside her and she reached out just in time to stop him climbing over the bar, his fists flying. The older man walked away, shaking his head, passing their order across to the barmaid.

'You're on probation James, one person calls the police and you're back inside, don't be a cock.'

'Fuck off Naomikins, this whole thing's a fucking joke.'

His chest ached with the anger fighting for his attention. He shrugged Naomi's hands off his shoulder and stalked out of the bar. He couldn't handle any of it without fucking up. What was he supposed to do? Keith was his only hope and he'd fucked him over. He'd waited eight months for this, for the freedom to find out who gave him up as a baby. Why couldn't Keith understand that? Of all his family, he was the one person who usually looked out for him.

'What's going on?' Emily asked from across the room, loud enough for him to hear as he pushed the door open. He needed fresh air, he needed a fucking spliff.

'James,' Naomi shouted, leaving the pub behind him with that same concerned look she'd had on her face since he got out. He tried to ignore it, she was Naomi after all. She'd always looked after him but even she could piss him off at times.

'Don't,' he shouted before she could even open her mouth. 'Don't fucking say anything. Nobody gets it, nobody will ever fucking understand. He thinks he's protecting me, load of bollocks Naomikins. I need to know. I fucking deserve answers.'

'I know,' she whispered, that look again.

'Stop fucking looking at me like that, fucking shit,' he spat, pointing his hand towards her chest. 'I won't take it from anyone and I especially won't take it from you.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Yeah, everyone's fucking sorry. I don't care that you think you should have gone down too. Nobody gives a shit. I'm 'ere, trying to get my life back and people are looking at me like I'm a piece of crap.'

'Nobody thinks you're a piece of crap Cook, not least me.'

'James.'

'Sorry.'

They sat on a picnic table smoking cigarettes, a slight downpour falling around them. He'd not felt rain properly in months. The last time he remembered it raining, he'd stood by his window staring out across the courtyard, watching puddles form on the uneven surface below. Droplets splashed on his head, his face and his hands, soaking his hair and seeping through his clothing. Naomi tried to get him under the smoking shelter, but he didn't want to move. He sat back on the picnic bench and looked up at the sky, his eyes closed, just feeling it. When the shower disappeared and the clouds in the sky had blown away, he stood up and joined Naomi at a dry table under the shelter.

'Why doesn't he want me to know?' Cook asked, knowing she had as many answers as he had, but asking the question anyway.

'I don't know.'

'I need to know Naomes; I need to know who I am.'

They both looked up as the pub doors rattled open and the tall, large man they'd spoken to earlier exited with a stern look on his face. He stopped a few feet from Cook and rested two drinks on the table.

'You shouldn't be asking questions, they ain't gonna make you happy. But if you insist on doing this, you wanna speak to your Uncle Sam.'

xxx

'Talk to me,' Emily whispered as she wrapped her arms around Naomi's chest. They barely seemed to be spending any time together, the only time she could really get Naomi alone, was in bed.

'There's nothing to say,' Naomi shrugged, turning onto her side with her back to Emily. 'I'm fine.'

A brief silence followed and Emily gritted her teeth with frustration. The last time they'd really sad down and talked was before Cook came out of prison. She understood Naomi's insecurities surrounding that, more than Naomi really gave her credit for. But what she didn't understand was why Naomi had suddenly began pulling away from her.

'You're doing it again Naomi; I don't want anything to come between us.'

She could hear the clicking of Naomi's tongue as she passed a judgement on Emily's concerns. She hated that anything was coming between them, even more so when Naomi couldn't admit the reality of their current situation.

'Nothing will,' she sighed.

'Are you sure about that?'

'Yes,' Naomi said, assertively before she let out a less confident sigh. 'I, I don't know.'

'Please,' Emily begged her; desperate to talk about what was going on.

'I'm fine,' Naomi tried again, but the seeds of doubt had already been implanted.

'Is this about Cook?'

'Yes, okay, is that what you want to hear?' Naomi snapped, turning back to face Emily.

Naomi had always been a self-confessed loner and though she didn't mind the company, sometimes, she also missed her independence. At certain times she wanted the peace and solitude to gather her thoughts and process her feelings. With Emily, she always had to voice them before she was ready. When she finally looked into her girlfriend's eyes, she lost all need to be alone and found herself all too willing to open up.

'I'm worried about him, he's so fucking depressed and not himself and I don't know how to help him.'

Emily reached a hand up to her cheek, cupping her face and brushing her fingertips along the contours of Naomi's forehead and nose. She closed her eyes and tried to get lost in the feeling of skin touching skin.

'He's been in a confined space for twelve months,' Emily reminded her. 'It's going to be an adjustment. Not everyone gets it right away.'

'It's not that, he's fine with that.'

'Right.'

She tried and yet, sometimes she felt like she tried too hard with the wrong things. If only Naomi would be honest with her, then maybe she could actually help her. Instead, she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, wishing and hoping that Naomi would stop keeping her in the dark.

'There's something I haven't told you, that I can't tell you. About Cook.'

'Right,' she muttered, coldly.

'I want to, believe me I do,' Naomi cried out, begging for forgiveness with her voice. 'But I promised him.'

'If I didn't know you so well,' Emily sighed. 'I'd be lucky to meet you; you'd be the best friend anyone could ask for.'

'But I'm lying to you.'

'No,' Emily whispered, trying to gather her thoughts enough to believe her own words. 'You're showing Cook that he can trust you.'

'But,' Naomi said, cut off quickly by Emily.

'It's none of my business really.'

'You deserve better.'

'You deserve to not feel so bad about this,' Emily assured her, despite doubts niggling her.

'I hate keeping things from you.'

Well, she hated disappointing Emily or making her doubt her. But keeping things? She wished she could do that more. Not to hurt her, but because she didn't want to have to go through every thought process inside her mind. She hated to think, let alone voice, many of the things battling with her brain.

'Just promise me something,' Emily muttered, edging closer so that her mouth was almost touching Naomi's ear.

'Anything,' she smiled, rolling over to meet Emily's gaze. Their lips sat inches apart as she watched Emily speak.

'Promise me that the moment you can tell me, you will?'

'Of course.'


	3. Chapter 3

**Author: **Miss Peg

**Warnings:** Lots of swearing and a bit of violence.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Skins...ah well.

**Summary: **When Cook gets out of prison having served time for absconding, he moves in with Naomi, Emily and Gina. After the death of his mother, Cook is faced with questions about his past. With Naomi's help, they go on an emotional journey which results in a revelation that could change both of their lives.

**Notes:** _Written for the __**Skins Big Bang **__on LiveJournal. Thanks to Dani who reviewed the last chapter :) I'm hope you're enjoying this, I was really proud of this story, finishing it after working so hard on it.  
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**Tears of My Heart - ****Part Three**

The sun gleamed down upon the metal wire of the run, bouncing off in all directions. Cook perched on the edge of the wall, with Wanda resting on his lap as he smoked a cigarette. He fucking hated smoking cheap cigarettes. They were probably mixed with herbs or some other shit; pad them out a bit instead of being full of tobacco. He didn't care at first, was glad to have access to cigarettes, even if they did come off the back of a lorry, but after a few weeks it was taking the biscuit. It didn't help that Naomi let him smoke a couple of hers every so often and they were top notch. They reminded him too much of the real stuff, making him crave it even more.

'Fucking piece of shit,' he cursed, throwing the half smoked cigarette on the floor and almost dropping the guinea pig. 'Sorry Wandakins.'

'You like her, don't you?'

'Like who?' Cook asked, spinning around quickly at the sound of Gina's voice; he frowned, furrowing his brow.

'Wanda. You can tell what matters to you, who matters, you give people nicknames.'

'Oh, yeah.'

'How's it going?'

He shifted across the wall to make room for Gina to perch beside him and they sat there in silence. Sometimes he didn't want to answer questions. Whenever he saw his probation officer he got annoyed at all the questions asked and every silence was an excuse for him to ask more, none of which Cook ever felt like answering. Gina wasn't like the probation service though; she didn't care if he sat there without talking for five minutes or five hours. She just stayed, offering her support, without really saying a thing.

'Michael, my probation officer, keeps on at me to get a job. I tell him I'm trying but he won't listen, he tells me I need to start getting my life back. I don't know how to.'

'Good job you have friends in high places then, isn't it?' Gina smiled that glowing grin that spread across her whole face when she opened her mouth. She was beautiful, really rather beautiful, just like Naomi. He'd always thought she was fucking smoking, but Gina, well, if Naomi was going to grow up to look anything like her then she'd be lucky.

'What do you mean?'

'I have a friend,' Gina informed him, scooping Wanda off his lap and holding her up to her face. 'She's the manager of a restaurant that's looking for a kitchen hand; it'll be basic work for not very much money. But the owner's an ex-con, got out of prison ten years ago for petty theft, really turned his life around. I've set you up a meeting with him tomorrow afternoon.'

'Nah, Gina, you didn't need to do that,' he muttered, stepping away from the wall. 'I ain't no chef.'

'Good job you'll be washing pots and moving plates around the kitchen then, isn't it?'

He doubted he would ever get used to the kindness of the people in his life. He grew up in a house where his mum drank herself stupid and his dad pissed off with a new bird every week. He'd never had the stability of a loving home and he'd certainly never been treated the way Gina treated him now. The whole situation made him feel rather uncomfortable. He was independent, he lived his life his own way and he didn't give a fuck about anyone else. Then again, no one ever gave him reason to give a fuck about them. Those that had were easy. If JJ or Freddie did something for him, he'd give them a big wet one and thank them profusely. Maybe he wasn't such a fuck up anymore, maybe there was such a thing as second chances. Even if it took a near stranger for him to realise that.

'I don't know,' he said, hesitating. 'I've never really done that kind of thing before.'

'You don't need experience to put dirty dishes in a dishwasher,' Gina noted with an assuring look on her face. 'There might be opportunities to work your way up. Give it a go; you never know what you could be good at, if you don't try.'

'I don't have anything to wear.'

'I got you a suit.'

Gina handed him the guinea pig and disappeared back into the house. He would have followed her but her last words left him considerably stunned. There was a difference between a kind act and someone going out of their way to make someone else's life better. When she returned a few minutes later with a suit bag, he stared at her with his mouth open wide. Inside was a simple black suit.

'I can't afford that,' Cook gasped, staring at the suit in awe. He'd not seen anything that new for a long time.

'My treat,' she smiled, reaching out towards him.

'No,' Cook shook his head, pushing the material away. 'No, I can't accept it Gina. I won't.'

'It's second hand and if you really don't want me to buy you a suit then you can pay me back when you get the job.'

'I can't.'

'Yes, you can.'

The elation he'd felt a few minutes earlier had been replaced with deep seeded hurt and frustration. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and thank her wholeheartedly for everything she'd done, but something stopped him.

'I ain't a charity case,' he snapped, dropping Wanda carefully into her run and standing opposite Gina with a scowl.

'I'm not treating you like one. You've helped me out a lot around the house. This is my way of saying thank you.'

'I thought my room and food was your way of saying thank you.'

'Consider it a bonus.'

'I ain't done nothing to deserve this Gina, I can't accept it.'

No matter how she dressed it up, Gina buying him a suit was verging on a charitable donation. He didn't want to feel ungrateful towards her but he couldn't shake the disappointment he felt at being one of those people others did things for.

'Shut the fuck up for once in your life James and just take it. I won't hear another word and I refuse to take it back.'

She sure had some balls did Gina, he thought as his lips curled into a smirk. Well, he could hardly say no when she was being so forceful. Fucking bitch, even if he had grown fond of her.

'Fine.'

'Good. Now make sure Wanda gets back in her cage, that run has holes in it, I don't want her getting into the shed again.'

'I told you that weren't my fault.'

'Maybe it wasn't, just make sure the cage is locked.'

'Will do Ginakins,' he leant in and kissed her on the cheek, wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders. Swallowing his pride was the hardest thing he'd had to do since leaving prison. 'And thanks.'

'You're very welcome James, now make me proud.'

'I'll do my best.'

'You better had.'

xxx

'Do you even know where we're going?' Naomi asked, rushing to keep up with Cook as he marched down the street.

No answer.

Cook sped up as they entered a large iron gateway with a rickety gate that looked like it had seen better days. Naomi stood close, cautious of the area they were in and the unfamiliar location. As she stepped closer still, Cook slipped his hand into hers and squeezed it tightly. He didn't say anything, but she knew it was for his own sake as much as hers.

'The man at the council says he works here.'

'Are you sure you want to do this?' Naomi asked, hesitantly. Cook unravelled his hand and took a step forwards, turning to walk backwards. He raised his arms, shrugging.

'What is this Naomi? I thought you were with me?'

'I am, I just want you to think about it before you go in there angry.'

'I'm not angry,' he snarled, taking a deep breath in order to calm down. He was angrier than he needed to be.

'Fine, you're not angry.'

Piles of rubbish and abandoned junk surrounded the whole yard as Naomi knocked on the prefabricated building's door. They waited as the person inside cursed loudly, something banged and then the door swung open like a stripper removing a pair of trousers.

'Whaddaya want?'

'Are you Sam?'

'Who's asking?' the tall, relatively skinny man asked, his eyes narrowing in on Cook.

'I'm James, I'm your nephew.'

The man's eyes bugged out as though he'd just witnessed a horrific car crash, his mouth agape. He stared at Cook, not taking his eyes off him for a second. That's when Cook realised how blue his eyes were. He'd wondered as a kid where he got them from, since his parents had different colours to his.

'I said whaddaya want?' the man asked, glaring at them with those piercing blue eyes, an aggressiveness to his stare.

'I was talking with Uncle Keith about my mum; he said to speak to you.'

'How is Ruthie?'

'She's dead,' Cook replied with little emotion in his voice. He'd struggled to understand what life would mean without a mother, even when he'd received the letter. The hardest part was hiding his feelings away. Any sign of weakness inside and he'd have ended up in the hospital wing. No matter how much his mother's death still bothered him, he'd become very good at pretending it didn't.

'What?'

'Died about eight months ago, that's not who I'm talking about though,' he informed him, standing up taller. His uncle stared at him like a little boy, just like the older men in the prison. He wasn't going to stand there waiting to be patronised. 'I want to know about Reggie.'

'Dunno anyone by that name.'

'Yes you do,' Naomi cut in, noticing the glaze that came over his whole expression when Cook said her name. 'I know you do.'

'You don't know nothing little girl,' he snapped, turning to her quickly and getting a little too close. She could smell alcohol on his breath and the distinct scent of the scrapyard around them.

'Fucking touch her and I'll smash your face in,' Cook shouted, pushing him back by the shoulder before squaring up to him.

'You think you're big and hard? You couldn't smash my face in even if you had a bat.'

'You fucking cunt,' Cook screamed, lunging at him, his fists flying as the man laughed. 'Come at me with a bat and you'll be in a grave.'

Sam gripped hold of the material of Cook's polo shirt, pulling him up to his full height before pushing him back across the yard. Cook stumbled, his feet falling out from under him as he landed on his back. The force of the impact and the taste of blood in his mouth sent his mind backwards in a spin. The taste of blood, the scent of decaying bodily fluids and the rush of anger spiralling out of control in his mind, disoriented him. He got to his feet and stalked forwards.

'Are you gonna tell us about Reggie or what?' Naomi asked, wrapping her arms around Cook's shoulders, trying her best to keep him under control.

'Let the fuck off me Naomi,'

'Not until you calm down James, don't do something to get yourself back inside.'

'You been in the nick?' Sam asked, his expression changing quickly before he put his front back up. Anything to hide what he was really feeling.

'Yes I've been inside, I'll fucking go back there if I need to, if you won't tell me what I need to know.'

They stood facing each other, square on, their eyes never faltering. Cook didn't want to back down and by the looks of it, neither did Sam. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his mother's younger brother, all he knew was that he didn't want to go away empty handed.

'I don't have anything,' Sam shrugged. 'Not for you. Get the fuck out of here; I'm supposed to be working.'

'Drinking and smoking weed more like.'

'You the fucking pigs now?'

'Just leave it, yeah?' Naomi tried, pulling Cook away as Sam disappeared back into his office.

xxx

The steaming hot tea cooled gradually as leaves floated across the top of her barely touched tea cup. The first mouthful had happened before, before her whole world had broken up leaving in its wake a dangerous trail. Of course, her life hadn't physically broken. Emily and Naomi still came home after a day with Emily's family. Naomi still sat down at the kitchen table and drank the rest of her previous cup of tea like she so often did, before relaying the latest drama to her in full, dramatic fashion. If anything, her life hadn't really changed. Emily and James still lived with them, the newest form of communal living and for the first time Naomi approved of it. No, everything carried on as it usually did. Except she'd received a phone call from someone she didn't expect to ever speak to again. He'd just called up out of the blue. How had he even got her number? She cursed herself for not asking. They hadn't seen each other in twenty years, let alone spoken on the phone. She didn't really know what he looked like now.

After the call, she'd sat back down and wrapped her hands around her tea, barely conscious of the heat escaping from the cup until she had been left with a lukewarm liquid.

'Any water left in the pot?' Naomi called out as she entered the kitchen, only when she stopped opposite her mother did she take note of the faraway look in her eyes.

Gina didn't move, nor did she show any sign of recognition whatsoever. Naomi prised the cup from her hands and took a brief sip before scrunching up her face in disgust. She'd never liked tea unless it was piping hot. She refilled the kettle.

'Mum?' Naomi shouted, sitting down beside her and resting a hand on her shoulder. The jerked reaction shocked her into silence, as Gina stared back in surprise. 'Are you okay?'

'Pardon?'

'What's wrong?'

'I, I can't, I don't, I.'

Her mother often acted a little scatter-brained, but the expression on her face and the look in her eyes was far from anything Naomi had ever seen from Gina. She knew her well, more than she cared to admit sometimes but even she was lost staring into her features.

'Something's happened.'

'I'm fine.'

'No, you're not.'

'I will be.'

'You can't promise that. You're worse than a yoyo sometimes.'

'I haven't suffered in years.'

'And that means anything?' Naomi scoffed, holding tightly to one of her mother's hands. 'You know you can't rely on the past to dictate the future. You're never really cured of depression.'

She turned her head, frustrated by Naomi's persistence. Sometimes she didn't want to be held accountable to anyone; sometimes she just didn't want to share what was going on inside her head. Their relationship had always been one-sided and quite frankly, she was fucking sick of it.

'Don't you think I know that?' she said, angrily. 'I don't need you acting the parent. I'm a full grown adult Naomi and it's time you had more respect.'

'I'll respect you when you respect that I'm an adult now too and I'm more than capable of coping with your illness. I coped with it when I was thirteen, I can definitely cope with it now.'

'I'm _not_ ill,' Gina shouted, doing nothing to relay her daughter's worries. She glared at her all the same, in the hope that she would stop pestering her.

'Maybe not, but you will be if you bottle things up.'

The truth was a far greater risk than any lie she could muster. She would not be talked down to by her teenaged daughter, no matter how mature or worldly she became. Naomi had no right asking for her secrets.

'Am I not entitled to a private life? You kept me in the dark about your life for years. How can you expect me to trust you when you don't trust me?'

'That's different,' Naomi snapped. 'I've changed.'

'Have you?'

The kettle clicked, signalling the boiling process had been completed. They stared at each other until Gina looked away, intimidated by the staring competition. The fear of her secrets ever getting out was too severe for her to entertain the childish game. Eventually Naomi stood up from the table and filled two mugs before carrying them out of the room. No, her life hadn't changed, not really. After all, her secrets had been with her for so long, she couldn't imagine a life without them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author: **Miss Peg

**Warnings:** Lots of swearing and a bit of violence.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Skins...ah well.

**Summary: **When Cook gets out of prison having served time for absconding, he moves in with Naomi, Emily and Gina. After the death of his mother, Cook is faced with questions about his past. With Naomi's help, they go on an emotional journey which results in a revelation that could change both of their lives.

**Notes:** _Written for the __**Skins Big Bang **__on LiveJournal. Thank you for the reviews, I really appreciate them. I wouldn't mind a few more, I worked so hard on this fic for months. I know it's not Naomily based so it's always going to be a little less popular, but I hope people are still giving it a chance._

**Tears of My Heart - ****Part Four**

The late night sounds had become an accustomed part of their weekly routine as Naomi perched on the edge of the wall. Cook had been out there for some time, a small pile of cigarette butts had formed on the floor beneath his feet and the guinea pig nudged his other hand as he stroked her. She stared cautiously back towards the kitchen door.

'On edge tonight,' Cook noticed.

'Emily knows I've been coming out here.'

'So?'

'She knows something's going on.'

After everything Naomi had put Emily through, she couldn't stand hurting her again. She didn't want to keep secrets, had never intended for their lives to turn backwards, but what other choice did she have? Cook didn't want anyone else knowing, after all he'd done for her, she couldn't help but comply.

'It's only until I find out about my mum,' he said, taking a final drag of his cigarette before stamping it out on the floor.

'What if it takes a long time?'

'Don't,' Cook snapped, standing up and shaking his head. They both knew it was possible that he'd never find his parents. There was always a chance; he preferred to live in denial than think about the possible outcomes of his search.

'You need to be realistic.'

'Fuck off Naomikins, I don't need this shit. I'm going to find them, now keep your fucking mouth shut, alright?'

'Make me,' Naomi snapped back, standing up and squaring up to him. He wasn't going to order her around. She'd done him a massive favour giving him somewhere to live. He ought to be more grateful.

'You owe me Naomi, you fucking owe me big. If it weren't for me you'd be in prison and Emily would be so far away from here and you'd be alone.'

She lifted her hand with the intention of hitting him, held it high above them until the moonlight caught her pale skin. But she couldn't do it. She couldn't hurt him. Not now, not ever. He was right, he was always so fucking right that she wanted to hit him for that reason too. He'd thrown her the guilt card and there was nothing she could do but play by his rules.

'I'm not happy about this James,' she informed him, staring deep into his eyes. 'I don't care what you fucking say. If this ruins things for me and Emily, you'll be eating your balls on a plate.'

'Don't threaten me Naomikins, I don't want us to end up like this. I need you; I need you on my side not hating me for making you do stuff.'

What had happened to them? They didn't used to be like that. They could argue but they never really meant it, it was usually just a bit of fun that they shared. He hated what he was doing to her, what he could do to Emily. He didn't want to be the reason they didn't work out but he didn't want to pretend that he hadn't paved the way for their make-up.

'Then don't make me feel guilty,' Naomi shouted, her tone more assertive than before.

'I'm sorry.'

'Yeah,' she whispered, lowering her head. 'So am I.'

Contrary to how people perceived her, Naomi didn't like to argue. She hated confrontation, especially when it came out of the blue. First, Gina, now Cook. She didn't want to become an angry person who blamed everyone around her for the things she couldn't control. She hated it when her mother lied to her, or kept things from her. At the same time, she hated telling her the things she didn't want to talk about. How could she expect Gina to be open and honest when she, herself, had such trouble with it?

'Let's start again. I heard you and Gina had a barney, what happened?'

'Don't know,' she sighed, lighting up another cigarette and breathing out the stress. Vocalising things always made them feel so much worse, so much more difficult. She didn't know why but it was easier telling Cook. 'She's been acting really weird today.'

'Maybe she's just having an off day,' he muttered, shrugging his shoulders. 'We all have them.'

'I guess.'

Naomi didn't want to talk about Gina from the moment he asked her, he could tell. She caged herself up like when Wanda hid in the corner of her hutch. He didn't ask her anymore questions and after a minute he could hear the deflation of Naomi's lungs. His lips curled into a smile and even though it was forced, he knew he had to pretend that everything was alright. Even if it was just to mask the fear bubbling up inside his chest.

'I need your help Naomeo,' he whispered, wringing his hands together nervously. 'I need to visit my grandpa's old house. I don't want to go back there on my own.'

There was no hesitation in Naomi's voice, no fear, no frustration. He could almost hear the thanks in her voice, his problems a welcomed distraction from her own life.

'When are we going?'

'I were thinking tomorrow, if you're not busy.'

'Perfect,' Naomi smiled. 'Emily's supposed to be out shopping with Katie.'

Silence filled the void between them and Cook lit up another cigarette. Mentioning Emily only made him realise further the damage he could be doing to their relationship. He didn't want that. But he wanted people feeling pity on him even less.

'I hate making you lie for me, but I can't tell anyone else. Not yet.'

Naomi nodded her head and silently smoked on her cigarette, they had an understanding, they always had. They shared more than they cared to admit.

'If it was me looking for my dad, I don't think I could either.'

'Even Emily?' he frowned.

She shrugged her shoulders and looked him in the eye.

'Maybe.'

xxx

The front door fell off its hinges as Cook pulled it open to reveal a long, dark hallway that led to what Naomi assumed was the kitchen. All she could see was dirt and rubbish cluttering up almost every inch of the floor space. When they'd arrived at the farm she'd half expected to be knocking on the door and asking the most recent occupants if there was anything left in the attic belonging to Cook's grandfather. As it turned out, the dilapidated old farmhouse looked more like a broken shell than a home. As they walked up the staircase, which she was sure would collapse at any moment, the floorboards creaked under foot.

'What are we doing here?' she asked, despite knowing the answer. 'This place is creepy.'

'I used to live here.'

'When? Nineteen twenty-four?' she joked, anything to avoid the fear building up inside 'This place can't have been lived in in years.'

'Five years,' Cook noted, kicking a pile of papers at the top of the stairs. The old place smelled exactly how he remembered it. Like old fags and dust. He remembered the countless times he'd visited the old codger he called grandpa and how many times he'd succumbed to his belt.

'Used to stay with my grandpa in the summer, it's how I met Freddie and JJ.'

'Is this place even safe?'

'Safe as old houses,' Cook assured her, though he wasn't as sure as he made out. The walls were covered in damp and mould and the windowsill was sprouting weeds. He assumed the broken window was to blame for that.

'What are we looking for?' Naomi said, careful not to touch any of the walls as they traipsed up another flight of stairs.

'Before my grandpa died he caught me snooping through his attic, I found pictures of my mum when she was younger. I wanna see if there's anything still up here. Don't think anyone moved in after he died.'

They separated at the top of the stairs as Cook walked on through the attic towards a few boxes. Naomi stayed by the doorway, cautious of the dark spaces surrounding them. She fucking hated the dark sometimes, when there were spiders and Christ knows what else running around. As she took tentative steps across the floor something tickled her cheek and she screamed. Cook doubled over laughing at her reaction, she walked quickly until she was within reach and then she whacked him over the head.

'You fucking dick,' she shouted, but he just carried on laughing.

'Found the pictures,' Cook announced, opening an old biscuit tin full of photos. 'There she is, my mum and that must be Sam.'

'She was beautiful,' Naomi muttered smiling at the photograph of Ruth from when she was a teenager.

'Pity she didn't stay that way when she opened her mouth or had a few drinks.'

'Was it really that bad?'

Cook muttered a response followed by a few sniffles; he returned his attention to the photographs. He wasn't going to cry, he wasn't a fucking pussy. He needed to be a man. He handed some of the photographs to Naomi and looked through the rest.

'Some of these are ripped,' Cook whispered, turning over a photograph of his parents and Sam. 'They're from before I was born.'

'They have the date on?'

'Yeah, this one says it's at my mum's twenty-first, I always thought she had me when she were twenty-one. I guess that explains why she ain't pregnant.'

'Hey Cook,' Naomi noted, dropping the other photos back into the tin and handing one over to him. 'Sorry, James, this one says Reggie on it. I guess they must have ripped her out of the photo.'

'Fucking cunts,' Cook shouted, throwing the box across the floor.

Naomi rested a hand on his shoulder, she hated when he got angry. Though he'd never been that angry with her, it still scared her. He could be violent when he wanted and though she knew deep down that he'd never hurt her, it still made her cautious when he lost his temper.

'What about these?' Naomi grinned, opening a photo album of baby pictures. 'Is this you as a baby?'

'Fucking hell,' Cook laughed, taking the book from Naomi as she continued looking through the other boxes.

'I was one right ugly baby.'

'You were a fat kid,' Naomi joked, resting a hand on his shoulder as she glanced down at the photos. 'Is that your grandpa?'

'Yeah, fucking bastard he was. Hated coming here in the summer but mum was always working, said I couldn't stay on my own so she sent me here.'

'Fun place to spend your summer though, on a farm.'

'Tell that to my grandpa, he'd shout at me for just being around. Not my fault I was just a kid, I couldn't decide what was happening to me. There was this one time where I was jacking off in the cow shed and he caught me, smacked me so hard across the back I thought I couldn't breathe. Weren't the first time he hit me.'

'Oh.'

'You going all pitying on me again Naomikins?'

'No, just, you had it tough, didn't you?'

Most of the time Naomi got frustrated with Gina's mothering and other times she didn't think it was so bad. At that moment she seemed more like a Goddess than a hindrance to her independence. Cook's past had always been something Naomi suspected would have been difficult, she just hadn't imagined the depth of problems he'd had to face.

'Nah Naomeo, just life man. Everyone's different.'

'You didn't deserve that life,' she mumbled, emptying the final contents of the box; a few items of clothing, some pictures Cook did as a child and another box full of tax forms.

'What's that?' Cook asked, lifting a sheet of paper out of the box. 'What the fuck?'

'Is that your birth certificate?'

'No, can't be, I got it from my mum when she died. This must be some fake, it's not even for the right council. I wasn't born in Bristol.'

'Where were you born?'

'I don't know, this is fucking weird man. There's another one for Edinburgh.'

'I don't think these are real,' Naomi said, analysing the Bristol one carefully. 'Says here you were born six months after me, which is right, but they can't have changed the birth certificates that much in that time. Mine looks nothing like this and surely your birth certificate would have your real mother's name on it.'

'Do they do separate adoption certificates?'

'I dunno, but surely you'd have two certificates with different names on.'

'I only have one which says Ruth were my mum,' Cook muttered, his brow furrowing. 'Different names?'

'You know, what your birth mum called you.'

He retreated, dropping the papers onto the floor as he walked towards the small window at the end of the room. He let out a breath and tried to find his previously calm and collected self. Easier said than done. The whole situation was messing with his head.

'This is fucked up Naomeo, I don't like it man. Maybe we should just give up; I don't need to know anything.'

'Yes you do, you said so yourself. You deserve to know. Maybe we're just going the wrong way about it? Maybe we need to contact the council where you were born and get a new certificate.'

'Alright,' he said, nodding briefly.

'Do you wanna take these photos with us?'

'Nah, they mean nothing to me. That bitch ruined my life, I don't need anything to remember her by, I got enough scars for that.'

Naomi squeezed his shoulder as he walked back towards the staircase. As he began to descend the stairs, she picked up a handful of the photos and papers and slipped them into her bag. She knew it was risky, going behind his back, but she wanted to help him. It couldn't hurt, could it?


	5. Chapter 5

**Author: **Miss Peg

**Warnings:** Lots of swearing and a bit of violence.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Skins...ah well.

**Summary: **When Cook gets out of prison having served time for absconding, he moves in with Naomi, Emily and Gina. After the death of his mother, Cook is faced with questions about his past. With Naomi's help, they go on an emotional journey which results in a revelation that could change both of their lives.

**Notes:** _Written for the __**Skins Big Bang **__on LiveJournal. Thanks to **gemma peridot **__for reviewing the last chapter, Gina and Naomi's relationship has always fascinated me, so I'm glad you're enjoying that aspect of the story. Please review, I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, being more Cook-centric, but I really did put an awful lot of work into this fic. It's always appreciated to know that someone is reading and right now it doesn't seem many people are. :(_

**Part Five**

The photographs and papers felt like time bombs in her hands, ready to go off at any moment should someone find them. If Cook discovered what she'd done, he'd probably be pissed, understandably so. If anyone else found them, well, she'd have to explain and that was something she couldn't do. So she placed them in an old biscuit tin that they hadn't used in years before opening the cupboard under the stairs and hiding them at the back.

'What's that?' Emily asked.

Naomi jumped, almost falling backwards as the one thing she didn't want to happen, had. She closed her eyes and chewed on her lip, maintaining a sense of calm before twisting round to face her girlfriend.

'Nothing,' she smiled, ignoring the fraught look in Emily's eyes.

'You say nothing, but all I can think about is the last box I had to open,' Emily whispered, her expression running through fear and disappointment before landing on worry.

Naomi reached out to her, pulling her tightly into her arms. If only to avoid having to stare into her eyes, to feel guilty for keeping secrets that weren't even hers to tell. She thought back to the first box that ever had a role in their lives, one that Emily had seemed ashamed of when her little brother revealed details of its content at a rare Fitch family dinner. Her lips curled at the edges.

'I'll always love your box of fannies.'

'Not that box,' Emily said, her eyes downturned and her lips pursed together.

'Oh,' Naomi realised, walking into the lounge and sitting down on the sofa. Emily followed but her doubts travelled ahead of her like a knife to the heart. She'd thought they'd moved on, that Emily had forgiven and forgotten about her infidelity. Would she ever truly be free?

'I'm sorry,' Emily sighed, sitting beside her and resting a hand on her thigh. 'It's obviously not like that.'

'Do you even trust me?' Naomi snapped, frustrated and angry that Emily could even think like that. She hated the past, she hated her mistakes and she'd spent months trying to make up for them. The last thing she ever expected was for it to be thrown back in her face at the first sign of trouble.

'Of course I do. I know you wouldn't do that again, I get scared though.'

She grew more scared with each day that Naomi kept things from her, what did she expect her to do? She was hiding something. The last time that had happened, well, she'd been stood on a rooftop contemplating the many ways she could end her life. For a moment. Her heart fluttered painfully in her chest as she considered the options. She didn't want to doubt Naomi, to feel the same fear and dread that she thought she'd put to one side. She wanted to trust her, wholeheartedly, but sometimes it was easier said than done. Love and apologies didn't fix everything.

'It's Cook's,' Naomi muttered. 'He doesn't know I have it, he doesn't want it. But one day I think he will.'

'Right,' Emily frowned, unsure whether to believe Naomi or not. She wanted to, desperately, but at the same time, she'd been in that position before. 'You can't tell me anything more though?'

'His mum died whilst he was in prison,' she muttered, sighing heavily. She wasn't sure she should have said anything, but she didn't think she could keep everything in for much longer.

'Oh.'

'I'm sorry, that's all I can say.'

There was more? She couldn't think that way, not any more. Naomi wouldn't hurt her again. She'd promised. It wouldn't happen, she knew that deep down. She knew how serious Naomi had been that day in Freddie's shed. She wrapped her arms around Naomi and pulled her close, kissing her check softly.

'It's okay.'

'Is it?'

'I want to tell you everything.'

'I know.'

Keeping the truth from Emily was the worst thing she could possibly do and she'd known that from day one, she hated lying to her and she hated hurting her even more. The doubt she'd implanted by being secretive was tearing her apart as much as she could feel it tearing Emily apart too.

'I'm sorry.'

'I know you are.'

'I want to make it up to you.'

'How?' Emily questioned, a cheeky smile forming on her lips.

'Like this,' Naomi let out a sigh as she kissed Emily's lips 'and this.'

She pulled her into her arms and planted soft kisses against her cheek, her fingers digging softly into Emily's hips.

'A little bit of this,' she kissed her neck. 'Then quite a bit of this.'

Naomi stopped talking as her mouth sucked gently on Emily's shoulder and her hands slid carelessly underneath her t-shirt. Her eyes remained closed as she got lost in the sweet scent of her body and the taste of skin.

'Is that all?' Emily laughed.

'You want more?' Naomi grinned, lifting her head long enough to speak before returning her mouth to Emily's neck.

'Yes, please.'

'How about this?' Naomi muttered, succumbing to the husk of her voice and sliding one hand into Emily's underwear as she nibbled the bottom of her ear.

'More,' Emily gasped, her hips lifting off the sofa and her head rolling back against Naomi's shoulder.

'This,' she moaned pulling her hand out of Emily's trousers and unlatching herself from her. Emily looked at her with longing and disappointment, until Naomi slowly removed her skirt, top and finally her underwear.

'Not quite,' Emily giggled, her come to bed eyes fluttering in Naomi's direction.

Naomi bit her lip and looked up at her with her eyelids a flutter. 'It's a good job mum isn't due back for a while, you're hard to please.'

'Or maybe I'm just a bit hot and bothered.'

'So you want this?' Naomi questioned, returning to the sofa where she reached out to the fasteners on Emily's clothes before pulling them off one piece at a time.

'Almost there,' Emily groaned, hooking her fingers around the strands of Naomi's hair.

'What about this?' Naomi whispered into her ear, lifting her into her arms and carrying her out of the lounge, struggling a little up the stairs and into the bedroom before attacking her with kisses as her hands moved all over her skin.

'Just move this hand here,' Emily grinned, taking Naomi's wrist and sliding it across her stomach and down between her legs. 'And I'll be very happy.'

xxx

Emily kissed Naomi's collarbone slowly as she unwrapped herself from her body, her nose twitched a little but her mouth remained semi-open and her breath continued at its usual sleep filled rhythm. She slipped into some clothes and returned to the kitchen where Gina stood at the counter pouring tea into a cup. Emily stood in the doorway and smiled when Gina placed a cup of tea on the table before pouring a second cup for herself.

'Thanks.'

'My darling daughter not with you?' Gina questioned, her hand hovering over the spare cups.

Emily's cheeks turned a distinct shade of red at the last hour and tried to ignore what Gina was asking. They were hardly a prude family, but having lived with Jenna Fitch all her life, she couldn't help feel a little uncomfortable at the discussion. Sex was something you didn't really discuss with your mother, or so she had always been lead to believe.

'Ahh,' Gina noted, with a raise of her eyebrow and a tiny smirk. 'I did wonder why anyone would leave their dirty clothes in the lounge.'

If anything, it only made Emily's cheeks redder. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Gina stirred her tea in silence, keeping one eye on Emily.

'Sorry love, is she joining us?'

'No,' Emily whispered. 'She's asleep. She's not been sleeping well.'

'James?'

'I think so.'

After everything he'd been through, she didn't think she had much right to be wondering why Naomi was keeping things from her. Cook's mum had died and though she knew he didn't get along with her, it must have still been difficult. As hard as it was living with Jenna, to the point of her deciding to move out, she still couldn't bear the thought of losing her.

'His mum died, did you know that?' Emily asked.

'No,' Gina uttered, staring down at her cup in discomfort.

Emily let out a sigh and watched her other-mother as she quickly distracted herself with a packet of biscuits. Sometimes Gina confused her. As level headed as she could be, she was also a bit scatter-brained and when she quickly distracted herself, it was usually because something was on her mind. Instead of sitting at the table, like Emily had expected, Gina unlocked the back door and carried her cup outside.

'It was whilst he was in prison,' Emily called after her, following her out onto the patio. 'Naomi won't tell me anything more, but I think there's something else he won't let her tell us.'

'You're worried,' Gina said, her eyebrow raised with question as Emily shook her head. Nothing got past Gina.

'How else am I supposed to feel?' she asked. 'It's not the first time Naomi's lied to me.'

Gina didn't respond. Emily watched her, waiting for her words of wisdom, but for the first time, nothing came. She just sat there on the bench staring out into space like she'd been hypnotised.

'I'm scared it won't be the last.'

'You know,' Gina began, finally breaking her trance. 'I don't think Naomi is doing this to hurt you, I think she still feels guilty. He went to prison for her, he gave her her life back and that's something you can't repay with presents or money.'

'She's letting him stay, isn't that enough?' Emily gasped, wishing she didn't feel so bad about the whole situation. It wasn't that she wanted to throw Cook out on the streets, if anything, she enjoyed having him around. She just didn't want the constant reminder pushing Naomi into things she didn't necessarily want to do.

'You know Naomi as well as I do, I don't think anything ever will be enough.'

'I hate that she's lying to me,' Emily sighed, sipping on her tea. 'This is really nice, what flavour is it?'

'Ginger and honey.'

'How can you be so level headed about everything, all of the time?' Emily said, placing her tea cup on an upturned plant pot and watching Gina curiously. The woman was marvellous and she could do nothing but applaud her, most of the time. Now, however, she couldn't quite understand why she was always that way. Nobody was perfect, but sometimes it felt like Gina was.

When she didn't respond, Emily honed in on the uncomfortable expression on Gina's face. Her eyes hollowed out like she'd lost all life, a faraway expression all that was left and she chewed on her lip, like Naomi, but for what seemed like very different reasons. Emily reached her hand out to Gina's which she covered in comfort. Gina's eyes glossed over and Emily's heart ached for the imperfections of her other-mother. She had so many questions that had suddenly forced themselves on her, like she hadn't realised before that Gina could and probably would, one day, be as flawed as anyone else. In reality, she knew of what Naomi had told her, of the depression she'd fought with for years and the difficult childhood Naomi had suffered because of it.

'Now I'm worried about you too,' Emily whispered, her hand still attached to Gina's.

'I'm fine,' Gina muttered, but her voice had lost its sparkle and her smile barely reached her cheekbones.

The front door banged open with some element of power that they could hear it right through the house and Cook marched straight into the garden lighting up a cigarette before he'd even reached the door.

'How are two of my favourite ladies today?' he greeted them, pulling a plant pot out of the corner of the garden and sitting down.

An awkward silence followed as Gina stood up and wiped a fear tears from her cheek. Emily tried her best to smile at Cook, whose toothy grin stayed fixed upon her face. He waited patiently for a response.

'Everything's fine,' Gina finally answered, looking at Emily to reassure her. She was less than convinced.

'Is Naomikins in the shower?' Cook asked with the usual disgusting glare he got whenever he was obviously thinking about her naked. Emily rolled her eyes.

'She must be,' she replied, standing up. She didn't want to leave Gina, not in the state she was in, but she wasn't sure how else to deal with the situation. 'I'll go see what she wants for dinner.'

Gina nodded her head and watched Emily walk back into the house. The last thing she'd wanted was to scare the poor girl, she hadn't intended to get upset and was actually quite fucking angry at herself for doing so. She picked at some weeds in the garden, anything to keep herself busy and distracted.

'You sure you're okay Ginakins?' Cook asked again, standing up and resting a hand on her shoulder, which made her jump. She nodded her head. 'Interview went well, not sure I'll have got it, but at least it were good. They want to see me again.'

She twisted round with his hand still resting on her shoulder. What could she say that would get everyone off her back? She didn't know. Her mind had reached a hazy state in which she didn't think anything would help her to refocus. Instead she attempted to distract herself as she pressed a hand gently against Cook's cheek.

'I am so proud of you,' she muttered, wiping a few fresh tears from under her eye as Cook stared back in confusion. 'What you've done since leaving prison, it's honourable. It really is. You could have crawled under a rock, or gone out there and reoffended, but you haven't. You've come here and, and, I'm so proud of you James.'

He allowed his smile to curl back onto his face as she stared up at him with watery eyes. He hated seeing people cry, especially mothers. He rarely saw his own cry, expect when she got stupidly drunk and ended up a mess in the toilet.

'I couldn't have done it without you Gina,' he assured her and wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders, she responded, her tense body relaxing quickly in his arms as he held her there. She started to sob against his shoulder and though he didn't quite know what to do with himself, he stayed with her. It was the least he could do.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author: **Miss Peg

**Warnings:** Lots of swearing and a bit of violence.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Skins...ah well.

**Summary: **When Cook gets out of prison having served time for absconding, he moves in with Naomi, Emily and Gina. After the death of his mother, Cook is faced with questions about his past. With Naomi's help, they go on an emotional journey which results in a revelation that could change both of their lives.

**Notes:** _Written for the __**Skins Big Bang **__on LiveJournal. Thanks to __**gemma peridot** and __**Emily Shitification Fitch**__ for reviewing the last chapter. Always a pleasure reading reviews and knowing people are enjoying my story. I hope you both enjoy this next chapter. (Dear FFnet, gemma peridot with a . in her name is not a website address, so please stop deleting it. :P)  
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**Part Six**

The clock on the bedside table had stopped ticking two nights ago at three twenty-four. Cook had been in bed, watching the hands tick around the face as they usually did, waiting for the next hour to arrive and the next, until he could justify getting out of bed. He'd started getting up and cooking breakfast for the house and they'd accepted it as a normal part of their daily routine. He felt like he was doing something for them and they thought he was giving something back. He couldn't tell them the truth. The ticking of the clock had made it difficult to sleep, yet the lack of ticking made it no easier. He watched the hand as it tried to move, getting one second forwards before jumping back again. He couldn't be sure of the time, nor did he really want to know. If he knew what time it was, he'd start counting down the seconds until he could officially be awake and the thought of that was enough to drive him potty.

'Night Blondie,' he growled, stepping off the back step into the yard, a cigarette in his hand as he lit it up and took in the nights air mixed with tobacco.

'About fucking time,' Naomi said, a playful growl making him laugh.

'Couldn't disappoint you and not turn up,' he smiled, though the darkness made it pointless to show any expression.

He lifted the waiting guinea pig out of her cage and sat down on the bench, stroking her bristled fur and puffing on his cigarette. Sometimes he wondered if this was his future, stuck in a friend's house, smoking cigarettes in the early hours of the morning with some weird rodent for company. What use was he otherwise? His job prospects had always been slim, even before he'd ended up inside.

'What's going on in your head tonight?' Naomi asked, always the intellectual, asking questions in such a way. He could never find the words to say the things he wanted, more so when he was angry or upset. Tonight he wasn't sure if he was one or the other, or somewhere in between. He just knew he hadn't been okay for a long time, probably most of his life.

'There's not enough,' he muttered, putting Wanda back in the run and walking to the end of the patio where the bins sat in a row; one for rubbish and a couple for recycling.

'Enough what?'

'Fucking information about my real mum,' he shouted, clenching his fists in frustration and sending his foot into the edge of one of the bins. They clattered together noisily and his breath grew in intensity, until Naomi's hand rested on his shoulder.

'You need to calm yourself Cook,' she said, in that soft tone she used at night, calmer than the one she usually used. Without her soothing tone, he'd probably have lamped her for not remembering to call him James. The physical contact felt good, he'd missed touch, he'd missed it more than anything being inside, even sex.

'I can't fucking handle it,' he cried, wiping his eyes with his free hand and reloading his cigarette with the other.

'Maybe there's someone else we can go to, another relative?'

'I don't have any fucking relatives,' he shouted, lowering his voice on the final word, silencing himself before Naomi could do it for him.

'Then we can go back to Keith, try and get him to talk again, or Sam.'

He shook his head and pushed her away from him, she didn't understand. She couldn't ever fucking understand what it was like. What he said and what he meant were two different things, what she heard was him saying there was no one else to go to, what he meant was he didn't have any family. He'd never really had any family and now, now his family had all lied to him for his whole life. They didn't matter, they would never matter. He didn't even have Freddie anymore and JJ had a new life which didn't seem to involve him.

'It's not going to fucking work,' he said, breathing in through his nose noisily.

'When we went to your grandpa's,' she whispered, cautiously. 'I took some photos and papers; they're in a biscuit tin in the cupboard under the stairs. They might be useless, but it's worth a try.'

He looked up at her, speechless, clenching his fists tightly beside him. He couldn't punish her for something that could actually be helpful, he just had to maintain calm long enough. She smiled weakly and handed him her cigarettes.

'Have another fag, don't want you stressed out for your second interview tomorrow,' Naomi whispered. He took the packet off her; they were better, more expensive than his. It was like smoking the Taj Mahal of cigarettes compared to his crappy shit. They didn't talk for the rest of the night, even when he smoked half of her packet. She didn't care, just sat there beside him, silently waiting for whatever he might want to say. She was more like Gina than she cared to admit.

xxx

'Guess what Gina?' Cook said as he entered the kitchen, unbuttoning his shirt and loosening his tie. He never was one for the smart gear, something he got from his dad he supposed. He hated school uniform, even hated the shirt he had to wear to his brother, Paddy's, Christening.

'You got the job?' Gina asked, holding up a can of beer which Cook took and drank down thirstily.

'Got it in one Gina baby, all thanks to you, my fucking guardian angel.'

'Not sure about that,' she chuckled, helping him to take off his jacket which she hung neatly on to the back of a chair.

'Nah man, it's all you,' he said, reaching his arms out and pulling her into a hug. He owed her a lot, more than just the suit she'd bought him. 'I'm gonna pay you back you know, first pay packet, it's yours.'

'Nonsense,' she smiled, holding him at arm's length with a huge grin on her face. She couldn't be happier. He'd tried so hard to get the job, even after they put him through the ringer. He deserved it, he really did.

'No nonsense babe, you fixed me up and it was a winner. I gotta pay back my favourite lady somehow, haven't I?'

'Then how about you buy me dinner?' she asked, compromising. She didn't want to take all his money off him, least not because of how little he'd probably have at first. She rested a hand on his cheek and sniffed back a few tears. 'That should cover it.'

'Not even close,' he grinned, removing his tie completely. He loved how much Gina had taken him on board; she was more of a mother to him than his had ever been. He wasn't sure he could ever thank her enough, not really. 'But it's a start.'

'Speaking of which, I was going to do a roast tonight, how does that sound? Naomi and Emily are eating out, so it'll be just you and me, if that's okay?'

'More than okay Gina love,' he grinned**, **pulling a packet of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and placing one behind his ear. 'Last packet of Crapboros.'

'Outside.' Gina pointed towards the door and he rolled his eyes, as if he needed the reminder, he wouldn't do anything to upset her, not after everything she'd done for him.

xxx

Whilst Gina cooked dinner, he found the metal tin in the cupboard under the stairs, underneath a box of porn and beside Gina's tea collection, just where Naomi said it would be. At first he'd been angry, but now he was grateful. He'd been through everything several times to the point of growing frustrated whenever he read Reggie's letter and looked at the photos only to find the same information. He didn't know why he wanted to look at the other photographs Naomi had taken, after all those weeks. He didn't think they mattered much, just a bunch of old pictures. He sat down in the lounge and cracked open the tin, leafing through several photos on the top. They were mostly of Ruth and Cook Senior in the days of their relationship, the odd photograph with Sam and one of Uncle Keith. When he reached down into the bottom of the tin, he felt paper, different to the photographs. He lifted them all out and placed them on the table.

'Another letter?' he mumbled, noticing the carefully crafted handwriting on the same parchment as the one sent to him at the prison. He read down, listening to the voice that wrote the letter, trying to imagine what she must be like. His mother.

'I can't see you, my parents found out about the baby. They won't let me see you Sam, even though I want to. Please forgive me.'

A lump stuck in his throat, lodged in there worse than a marble up a kids nose. He couldn't let go long enough for the tears to arrive, yet he didn't want to feel the pain of the growing lump. Finally, he couldn't hold it in any longer. Sam was his dad? Why hadn't he told him? Not that he'd wanted to say much, but he should have told him. If there was anything he deserved to know, it was that his Uncle Sam was actually his dad. That must have been why he ended up with their family, which meant, Ruth was his aunt.

_Fuck_, the whole thing messed with his head. He couldn't fucking stand it, every piece of the puzzle seemed to lead him further away from useful information to the point that he was growing tired looking. He folded the letter back up and put everything in the tin, out of sight, out of mind.

For the first time in days his eyes were going, he could feel the same crash come on that had happened every few days since he'd got out of prison. Usually it happened during the day and he'd sleep on the sofa whilst Gina vacuumed around him, anything to avoid the silent nights.

'James?' Gina entered the lounge, wondering why he hadn't returned to the kitchen. She found him sleeping on the sofa, his thumb lodged in his mouth like a child. She sat down on the coffee table and brushed his hair back from his face, he looked so beautiful when he slept, so at peace with the world around him. Not like when he was awake. She hadn't escaped the worry that seemed permanently etched on his face. She searched the cupboard under the stairs for a blanket before covering him up and returning to the kitchen to eat dinner.

xxx

The scrap yard office smelt like cannabis and sweat which made Cook want to turn around and walk right back out of the door. He didn't though, he stood in the doorway watching the man he now knew to be his father fiddling with a mobile phone and laughing to himself. He tried to remember everything Naomi told him after the last time they saw Sam, not to let his emotions get the better of him. Sometimes he couldn't help it and that moment was one of those times.

'You fucking cunt,' he screamed, darting across the room and pinning him by the scruff of his neck against the back wall.

'Was 'oping I'd never see you again,' Sam snarled, wrapping his fingers around Cook's hand as he pressed it harder against his throat. He could smell blood on his hands, a faint reminder of his past crimes. He wasn't afraid to kill someone, not anymore.

'Don't you fucking talk, understand me? Don't you fucking say a fucking thing unless I ask you to.'

'But,' Cook just pushed his hand tighter around Sam's neck and watched the blood catch in his face, turning it a deep shade of crimson. It wouldn't take long to kill him, to murder him in cold blood. He couldn't do it though, that wasn't why he was there. He had a purpose and he wasn't going to waste his time by killing the only person who could help.

'You fucking lied to me, why didn't you tell me you're my dad?'

'I ain't your dad, your mum and dad were Ruthie and Cook, I ain't your dad.'

'Except that you are,' Cook snarled, his fingernails breaking the skin on Sam's neck. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like, to kill for the sake of killing, to murder just to feel the same rush of adrenaline he'd felt before. 'You're my fucking dad and you'll answer every question I have or I'll kill you.'

'You don't have it in yo',' Sam laughed, before choking again from the pressure of Cook's hand, he pressed harder, enjoyed watching him panic as his feet flailed around like a recently decapitated chicken.

'You wouldn't be the first person I've beaten to death,' Cook growled into his ear, chuckling at the fearful look now housed in his father's eyes. The same look he saw in Foster's eyes seconds before he knocked him unconscious. 'Now, my mum, who was she? Where can I find her?'

'Her name was Reggie, I don't know where you can find her, I don't know anything else,' Cook lifted him by the neck a little, feeling him struggle to breath as he hung from his hand. Then he lowered him and gave him the biggest grin he could muster.

'Think again you pussy, Reggie who? Where the fuck does she live?'

'I don't know, I don't remember.'

'You got her pregnant, she wrote a letter to you telling you she was having your kid and you can't fucking remember?'

'I were only a kid, I didn't care. I just wanted to fuck and she was one fucking good shag was your mum, real feisty.'

He knew very little about his mother but Sam's smirk and words settled in the pit of his stomach like a weed in a perfectly pruned flowerbed. He slapped him, hard across the cheek, could feel his jaw shirk inside his mouth and his teeth grind together. It woke up the monster within and he wanted nothing more than to smack his face in with his fist, to feel blood and bone mixing as he beat him to a pulp. But he wasn't done, he couldn't risk it yet.

'Last time I saw her she'd just come from her parents' house on, I can't remember the road, it was off the main road by 'ere, number eighteen, their road has the Deer's Head pub on the corner. I don't know if they'll still be there, it was twenty-one years ago.'

'Twenty-one years?' Cook asked, frowning as he let his guard down and stepped away from his dad. Something wasn't quite adding up in his head, he just wasn't sure what. 'But I was born nineteen years ago.'

'No, you weren't,' Sam said, shaking his head and retrieving his mobile phone which had broken into pieces when Cook had arrived. 'I remember it like it were yesterday, day you were born, 16th October 1990.'

'That's not my birthday,' Cook shouted, his whole body alive with adrenaline. If he wasn't still itching for information, he'd have sent his fists flying and allowed his body to lose control. He'd learnt a thing or two about controlling his anger inside, any sign of a fist fight and he'd end up in a cell on his own for longer than he liked.

'Yes it is.'

'Nah man,' he tried again, shaking his head adamantly, wringing his hands together. 'I'm 16th May '91.'

'That's what they told you kid,' Sam muttered, slotting the battery back in his phone and turning it back on. 'But that's not what happened, your mum and dad knew they couldn't have you officially, so they got a birth certificate made up by a friend who worked at the council in Derby.'

'You're lying, you've already done it once, you're fucking lying to me again.'

'No, I'm not kid, think I don't remember the day Reggie turned up on my doorstep begging me to take you? You were just born and it was fucking freezing outside, it had snowed and she'd wrapped you up in a tiny blanket. I didn't have a fucking clue what I was doing, so Ruthie offered to help out. Only she didn't help out like she was supposed to, she fucked off to Derby with your dad.'

'You're lying to me.'

He didn't want to listen to him talking anymore; he didn't want to hear the truth. It hurt too much, listening to what happened from a man who didn't care enough about him. If he did, they wouldn't have lied to him his whole life that he was his uncle. He let his guard down long enough that Sam swung at him, his own instincts made him dodge out of the way before smashing him back in the nose. He went down, his face bloody and red, his nose misshapen. A sense of satisfaction made him grin at his dad as he stood over him, resting his foot on his chest as he heaved each difficult breath.

'You fucking try and hit me again, or this information be a pack of lies and I'll make sure you're buried under fifty tons of scrap. You fucking understand?'

Sam nodded as Cook kicked him in the side and walked out of the office.

**Please review? :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author: **Miss Peg

**Warnings:** Lots of swearing and a bit of violence.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Skins...ah well.

**Summary: **When Cook gets out of prison having served time for absconding, he moves in with Naomi, Emily and Gina. After the death of his mother, Cook is faced with questions about his past. With Naomi's help, they go on an emotional journey which results in a revelation that could change both of their lives.

**Notes:** _Written for the __**Skins Big Bang **__on LiveJournal. Thanks to __**gemmaperidot, Emily Shitification Fitch, Daniiiii21 **__and __**Jackmehaulf **__ for reviewing the last chapter. I really appreciate your comments and thoughts on this story...hope you enjoy this chapter, bit nervous about it, so your opinions are most welcome. Anyone's opinions are, of course!_

**Part Seven**

When Gina dropped the phone on the floor she let out a loud yelp which attracted the attention of Naomi. As she struggled to catch her breath, she cursed quietly and returned the phone to its correct position, her hands shaking dramatically as she walked down the hallway towards the kitchen.

'What happened?'

'Dropped the phone,' Gina said, smiling forcefully, but her hands still shook and her knees felt more like jelly than stable poles. She lowered herself back onto a chair, thankful for the stability of the wooden legs.

Naomi raised an eyebrow, with apprehension, as she watched Gina battling with something. She couldn't figure out what. Her mother was secretive when she wanted to be, more so recently. She opened her mouth to speak, but Gina quickly changed the subject. Though she wished to address whatever was causing her mother distress, she also knew the likelihood of getting a positive response was slim.

'These riots, it's a disgrace what is happening to our poor country,' Gina mused, proud that her daughter had no role in such situations. If anything, Naomi had already written copious messages on Bristol's wall of love, opting for the positive response that many people her senior had been unable to afford.

'They're a bunch of fucking idiots.'

'Good job I got one you like,' Gina smiled, cupping her daughter's cheek and struggling to hold back tears. Naomi rolled her eyes and shrugged her off. Sometimes Gina could be really embarrassing. She was only thankful that Emily or Cook hadn't been there to witness it.

'Yeah, yeah,' Naomi muttered and took another Garibaldi out of the packet. 'Even the cats are at it, did you see the two tomcats from down the road? Screeching at each other like it was the end of the world. I was going to scare Roger off, but Mills took a swipe at me.'

'That's the thing Naomi darling, as dangerous as it is getting involved in rioting. It's even worse when you try to get involved in cat politics; it's much more interesting than human politics.'

'Are you serious?'

'Deadly.'

'Next you'll be telling me fish politics is the next best thing.'

'Have you seen the sea lately?' Gina gasped, shaking her head. 'Those sharks, they're the biggest bullies of the lot.'

'You've gone nuts.'

The laughter died away and Gina appeared more apprehensive than someone having an enjoyable afternoon with her daughter. Naomi raised an eyebrow and watched her carefully. She busied herself with the teapot, stirring the leaves about in the few inches of water that was left. Something wasn't right and if Naomi was honest with herself, it hadn't been for some time.

'Mum?' Naomi asked, worrisomely.

'Pass me the biscuits love,' Gina muttered, laying the teapot to rest. Naomi watched her movement, slow, cautious, as she nibbled on her biscuit.

How could one phone call change her mood so easily? And how could she pretend that nothing had even happened when it was blindingly obvious that something serious was going on.

'Mum, what's going on?' she repeated, taking the packet of biscuits away from Gina, who tried to take out another biscuit. 'What's wrong?'

'Why does something always have to be wrong?'

'You have that look,' Naomi whispered, her jaw clenched together with concern. 'You only look like that when something's wrong.'

'There's nothing wrong,' Gina replied, quickly and without much emotion.

'Now you're lying to me.'

'It's complicated.'

'Too complicated that someone as uneducated as I couldn't possibly understand?' Naomi rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, for no other reason but to show Gina just how bothered she was.

'I thought we'd decided I was entitled to a private life.'

'No, mum, _you_ decided you were. I'm still wondering what the fuck is going on.'

'Nothing is going on.'

'Except it is.'

'I mean this in the nicest possible way love, _fuck the hell off_.'

She would do no such thing and Gina could do nothing to stop her, she could tell by the glare in her eyes. Stubborn through and through, something she'd passed down to her, begrudgingly. If the situation wasn't so delicate, she'd have appreciated how much Naomi actually cared. However, things were not as simple as that and she would not be dictated to by her barely-adult daughter.

'No. Don't fucking lie to me again,' Naomi snapped, banging the Garibaldi's down on the table with detrimental effect. 'This isn't the first time you've acted like this mum, what the hell is going on and don't fucking pretend there's nothing?'

Unexpectedly, Gina lifted her hands to her face and crumbled before Naomi's very eyes. Her shoulder's hunched over the table as teardrops strolled down her cheeks, landing carelessly upon the wooden top. She shook uncontrollably as each sob grew more and more robust until she could only breathe in great gasps. Naomi's heart sank with a mixture of guilt and pain which filled her as she watched her mother fall apart. If she'd known how much it would have affected her, she wouldn't have pushed so hard, but ultimately, her worries were anything but lessened.

'I think we should make an appointment at the doctors,' Naomi whispered, resting her hand against Gina's upper arm. She didn't want the past to repeat itself any more than Gina probably did, but she knew as well as anyone how damaging depression could be.

'No,' Gina snapped, pushing Naomi's arm away. 'I don't need a doctor and I don't need your sympathy.'

'You're my mum, Christ, what do you expect?'

'I expect you to mind your own fucking business,' Gina snarled, before sobbing again, obviously regretful. She couldn't push Naomi away, she wouldn't. So what if her past was creeping up on her like a prowling cat? She could handle it; she could deal with the fall out.

'I can't do that mum, I won't leave you to do this alone, whatever it is,' Naomi sighed, resting her hand against Gina's shoulder and letting out a long, deep breath. She couldn't watch her in that much pain and not do anything to help.

'I don't deserve you, I don't deserve any of this,' Gina cried. She couldn't handle it, the fall out; it was too much of a risk. She shook her head in her hands and mumbled to herself incoherently.

She'd not seen her mother in such a state since she was a teenager when it happened nearly twice weekly until they finally got help. The last time had been a couple of years ago when she last spoken to her parents. Grandparents that Naomi had never met and couldn't even pick out of a crowd.

'Was it them? Was it your mum and dad?' she asked, resting a hand over Gina's and trying to remain calm.

The very mention of her mum and dad, after all those years, was enough to make Gina cry even harder. She couldn't bear to think of them, let alone have a conversation about them. Everything was getting on top of her. She'd tried to keep things from Naomi, not to protect her from harm, but to protect herself from losing it. Naomi needed a mother who could look after her, not one who needed medical attention. But the past caught up with most people and finally, she realised it had caught up with her too.

'No,' she whispered, wiping her eyes and gasping for air. Naomi's hands lay comfortingly on her shoulders. She'd brought her up well, her beautiful baby girl, willing to comfort her mum in times of dire need. She reached a hand out to Naomi's and turned into her arms, sobbing against her shoulder. 'I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry.'

'What for?' Naomi asked, pushing her back. 'I don't know what you're talking about mum and, right now, I'm scared.'

'There's something,' Gina started to say, but the state of her made it harder to get her words out, until she trailed off incoherent babbles.

'Christ mum, I think that's fucking obvious, don't you?'

'I can't,' Gina cried out, shaking her head and holding her eyes tightly together.

For a moment, Gina wondered if Naomi was going to leave her alone as she stood up and walked out of the room. She let out a soft sigh of relief, until Naomi returned with the phone in her hands.

'Wha, what are y, you doing?' she stuttered, reaching for the phone but Naomi stepped backwards out of reach.

'If you're not going to tell me, I'll find out for myself.'

'Naomi, don't,' she called out as her daughter held the phone to her ear, her sobs were the only sound in the room. 'You don't know what you're doing.'

Naomi eventually dropped the phone onto the table, her brow furrowed and her face contorted with a look of incomprehension. She looked at Gina cautiously, until her eyes grew wide.

'Wh. why is Cook's uncle ringing you up and why are you being secretive about it?'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Gina barked, her last ditch attempt at avoiding her past as it crept up behind her.

'Stop being so fucking secretive Gina and tell me what the fuck is going on before I start thinking you've been lying to me my whole life.'

What else was there to say? Gina _had_ been lying to her for her whole life; there was no escaping that, no matter which way she wanted to twist it. The truth will out, when it wants to and there was very little she could do about it. Her only relief being that she could stem the blows, hand them out gradually instead of all at once. As hard as this would be, she knew the worst was yet to come.

'He's, he's your father.' 

xxx

The conversation climaxed instantly with the long silence that followed, leaving Naomi shaking. She removed her hands from Gina's shoulders and sat back in her chair. She'd always been told that her dad had never contacted them, that he didn't want to see her and most importantly, didn't want Naomi to know who he was.

'What?' she gasped, her chest feeling considerably smaller than the massive organs fighting for space. 'My dad is a shitty little prick who didn't want me. But he's not _that_ much of a shitty bastard.'

Despite believing everything Gina had told her about her dad, there was always a little ray of hope living inside of her as she hoped for the same things she had as a child. Maybe one day her dad would want her and they'd take trips to the cinema, or bowling, just the two of them, father and daughter, making up for all of the lost years. Now, all hope was dashed as she pictured the same trips, alone.

'Sam isn't so bad.'

'You should have seen the way he spoke to me, mum,' she cried, shaking her head adamantly. 'He's what you consider the riff raff you would never give a home to. He's a violent tosser.'

'He didn't used to be like that, Naomi,' Gina whispered, pulling Naomi's hands into her own and holding them against the table. She had that look, that worried expression she'd carried on several occasions. Naomi's heart sank as tears pricked the backs of her eyes. 'He called to make sure you don't go back to see him.'

'Why the fuck would I want to see someone like him?'

A lump caught in the back of her throat and she choked on tears. For years she'd wanted to, just once, to see what he was like. Now, she couldn't even stomach the idea of who her father was, let alone want to see him. It wasn't Gina's fault, she knew that. But she couldn't help the anger she felt towards the woman that bore her. Her body language seemed to do nothing to keep her mother at bay as Gina reached out to embrace her.

'Don't,' Naomi snapped, pushing her away.

'Naomi, love,' Gina tried, tears strolling back down her cheeks. 

'No,' Naomi shook her head as she fell apart, crying so hard that her throat hurt. 'This wasn't supposed to be about me, Cook wanted my help. I didn't want to find him, I was happy without him.'

'I know,' Gina responded, trying again, reaching out to hold Naomi's hand, but she pulled it back. 'I'm so sorry.' 

She couldn't breathe as her chest inflated and deflated in quick succession with the shock. Cook's Uncle, even if he wasn't actually related to him, was her dad. He was her dad and all she could think about was how horrible he'd been and how much of a fucking screw up he was. She stood up fast and her vision blurred briefly, her legs felt like jelly and her insides moved unstably. She became vaguely familiar of Emily walking down the hallway as she rushed towards the door, but her ears had stopped working, as had her brain. The fresh air did nothing to stem her tears as she ran off down the street.

xxx

'Answer the fucking phone Naomi,' he cursed under his breath as he stepped up to the front door, his stomach twisted with nerves.

This was it, the one chance he had of actually changing his life. He'd wished for years to have a better life, to have a family that actually cared about him. He always said he got more than his fair share of bad luck. The scars on his bottom had been a physical reminder of all the times he'd had a belt whacked against him by his so called grandfather. What would happen now? He didn't know these people, they didn't know him. They might not even live there anymore. He had never felt so nervous before, except the day he went to prison. The fear of the unknown. Only this time, it was an unknown he would never get to change. He couldn't make the couple that lived there care about him. He looked again at their house, a fucking detached. For most of his life he didn't even know what a detached house looked like, except his grandpa's farm and that was different.

He slipped his phone away and knocked lightly on the door, rolling his eyes at how much of a pussy he was being before pressing the doorbell. His heart pounded in his chest to the point where he wondered if he was having a heart attack. He didn't really know what one felt like; it could have been any number of things. A silhouette was walking towards the front door. Cook stared at his reflection and rearranged the front of his hair. Why hadn't he chosen to wear his suit? Or at least something smarter than the polo shirt he was wearing for a second day. He gritted his teeth as the door opened and a tall man with grey hair smiled at him.

'Hello, can I help you?'

'Hi,' he began, pausing after hearing his own voice. He hated it. It made him sound like a twat; then again, he was a twat. He smiled back. 'My name's James, I'm looking for a lady called Reggie.'

The man's eyes grew wide and then his whole face shut down, his cheeks had turned red and he started to mumble to himself.

'Nobody of that name here,' he muttered, quickly.

'But there was?' Cook noted.

'No, no one of that name here,' the man repeated.

'You're not telling me the truth,' Cook snapped, regretting it before he looked the man square in the eye.

'I've not seen Reggie for twenty years.'

'But she used to live here? She's your daughter?'

'Y, yes,' the man stuttered, his face still an unusual shade of red.

'I'm trying to find her, do you know where she is? I'm, I'm her son.'

The man stared at him like he'd seen a ghost and his jaw juddered for a moment before he closed his mouth tightly, his lips pursed together, reminding Cook of the headmistress of his primary school. The only woman, aside from Ruth, that he was actually scared of.

'Hatty,' the man shouted behind him, a note of distress in his voice. A plump lady, who was reasonably short, walked up behind him and her eyes narrowed in on Cook in an instant. Her dyed blonde bob framed her face and she stared at Cook in a similar way to that of, what he assumed was, her husband. 'It's the boy.'

Cook didn't think he needed much introduction, from the way she had stared at him. He hadn't been sure what to expect when he knocked on the door, but that certainly wasn't it. Neither of them looked like they had any idea what to do with themselves and the woman looked about ready to faint.

'James,' the man repeated, smiling at Cook with tears in his eyes. 'She named him after my dad.'

'Is she here too?' Hatty questioned, her eyes darting around behind Cook until he shook his head.

'I thought you might know where she is. My mum, Ruth, the woman that brought me up, she never told me I were adopted. I only found out 'cause she died.'

'Oh dear, come in, come in,' Hatty gasped, wrapping an arm around Cook's shoulder and guiding him down the hallway and into a large lounge room.

He sat down, as instructed, by the plump lady and rested his hands in his lap. He didn't know how to behave, not least because the house itself was immaculate. The couple disappeared out into the hallway and Cook tried to ignore the muttered discussion they shared. He stood up and walked along the edge of the fireplace where a number of photographs sat. As he looked at each one in turn, his heart leapt into his mouth and he could barely breathe.

'Oh the photos,' Hatty squealed as she walked in behind him.

'Sorry,' he choked, backing away from the photographs.

'Nonsense, that's your mum and your sister,' Hatty grinned, picking up one of the frames and handing it to him. 'Of course, we don't have anything more up to date. Reggie hasn't been back here for a long time, she sent us a couple of pictures a few years back, but nothing since.'

'I don't understand,' he gasped, taking the photo frame from her and staring down at the woman and child in the photograph.

'What don't you understand dear? That's our Regina and little Naomi, though she's not so little anymore. She's only a year or so younger than you.'

**Sooooooooo...what do you think about that then? Opinions wanted. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author: **Miss Peg

**Warnings:** Lots of swearing and a bit of violence.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Skins...ah well.

**Summary: **When Cook gets out of prison having served time for absconding, he moves in with Naomi, Emily and Gina. After the death of his mother, Cook is faced with questions about his past. With Naomi's help, they go on an emotional journey which results in a revelation that could change both of their lives.

**Notes:** _Written for the __**Skins Big Bang **__on LiveJournal. Thanks to __**Marie, Miss maraudeur, Emily Shitification Fitch, gemmaperidot **__and __**tromana **__for reviewing the last chapter. It was quite a biggie! The story's almost over, two more chapters after this one. I hope you continue to enjoy it. :)_

**Part Eight**

She'd been pottering around the house for days, weeks in fact, to the point that Emily was almost sick of having cups of tea placed in front of her whenever she sat down at the kitchen table. Gina's role, as the matriarch of their dysfunctional family, was to listen to their worries and help fix any problem with little more than a cup of tea and a couple of sentences. It had taken Emily too long to realise that Gina wasn't serving her tea to get her to open up; she was doing it because she needed someone to talk to.

'What's going on?' Emily asked, sipping politely on her teacup. 'Why did Naomi run out of here crying and why are you looking just as upset?'

'I don't know what you mean,' Gina muttered, busying herself with a packet of sugar. She never had sugar in her tea, in fact none of them did.

'Yes, you do,' Emily snapped, before silencing herself again.

Instead of asking questions, Emily merely sat there and stared at Gina, in the same way she stared at everyone else when she was waiting for them to speak. She looked down solemnly, showing more interest in the floating tea leaves than her companion.

'I told Naomi something about her father and she took it badly.'

Emily listened patiently as Gina retold her conversation with her daughter. Despite the detail and Gina's assurance that there was nothing else to it, Emily wasn't sure. She watched her cautiously as Gina's eyes darted about warily inside their sockets. They sat in silence again, much to Gina's dislike. She liked to surround herself with people so that she didn't have to think, or talk about anything of substance, aside from protests and the state of their country. Some might have said that she purposefully took on responsibilities of a moral nature, in order to mask what was really bothering her. Not that she'd admit it mind.

'I'm worried about her,' Gina finally muttered.

'It's a lot to take in,' Emily noted.

'Not just that,' Gina shook her head, trying to skate over the original issue as quickly as possible. 'All the secrecy, spending all her time with James. Guilt is a dangerous emotion. Trust me, I know. Naomi knows too, the effect. She just doesn't realise it.'

'I don't understand Gina.'

'I'm not making much sense, am I?'

'No.'

Naturally, Gina would be worried about Naomi; Emily was worried about her too. But she seemed to be diverting the conversation, much to Emily's dismay. Like mother like daughter. Sometimes Emily wished she hadn't ever got involved with the Campbells, but at the same time, she loved them both dearly.

'It doesn't matter,' Gina shook her head and wiped at her eyes with a tissue. 'Whether Naomi tries to help James find his parents or not, it's none of my business.'

'I don't understand,' Emily frowned. 'His mum died.'

'She wasn't his real mum. Naomi's been helping him to, to, to find out who his mother is.'

'Oh,' Emily muttered, the last few weeks slotting into place. 'I suppose that makes sense.'

'They didn't tell me if that's what you're worrying about,' Gina assured her.

'I'm not worrying.'

'I overheard them talking about it.'

'Right.'

Neither of them said another word and Gina refilled the teapot with fresh water and tealeaves. Emily watched her carefully, noticed the flaws behind the lines. She wasn't happy; she hadn't got everything off her chest. Though she looked reluctant to do so.

'What dates do you and Naomi start university?'

'Don't change the subject,' Emily said, pouring herself a drink and watching Gina cautiously. 'There's something wrong, more than what you've said, I can tell. Talking to me about Cook and university isn't going to make me forget that.'

'It's nothing, I'm fine,' Gina responded, but the strain in her voice only confirmed Emily's suspicions.

Gina stood up, filled the kettle again and switched it back on. Emily let out a long, slow breath as she plucked up the courage to voice all of the things floating around inside her head.

'You've already filled the teapot; we don't need any more hot water,' she paused. 'Are you sick?'

Countless times she'd watched soaps or films where people hid illnesses from their family. Gina had always been pretty open with them, especially Naomi. They adored each other, even if Naomi didn't admit it half the time. She would be devastated if Gina got ill.

'I'm not ill.'

'Then, what is it?'

'It doesn't matter.'

'I think it does' Emily said, assertively. 'What are you so scared of?'

'Losing her.'

Gina's eyes closed and tears strolled down her cheeks, leaving Emily regretting pushing her. They really were one of the same, both sharing the same fears and yet, never being able to voice them with each other.

'You think telling her about her dad would do that?'

'No, I don't, I don't know. I don't know what else to do,' she sighed. 'If I tell her, I'll lose her. If I don't, well, I could still lose her.'

'You've already told her,' Emily furrowed her brow. 'Unless, there's something else?'

A loud wail came from Gina's mouth as she covered her eyes and started shaking. Emily rested a hand on her shoulder and rubbed the top of her back.

'Keeping it to yourself is going to make you ill,' Emily whispered. 'It's obviously something significant.'

The howling filled the silence that overshadowed the moment. Emily tried to focus on her own breathing as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. How could she support Gina if she couldn't keep herself okay? When Gina finally spoke, her voice came out in a bare whisper.

'I have a secret.'

'We all have secrets,' Emily said, curiously.

'Not like this,' Gina mumbled, keeping her head low and her shoulders hunched over.

'Like, what?' Emily asked, reaching her other hand out to Gina's, where she let it rest. 'The amount of times you've listened to me bitch about Katie or my mum, you know you can talk to me too.'

'Thank you, Emily,' Gina nodded, drinking her tea and staying silent for what felt like several minutes. When Emily glanced at the clock she realised the second hand had barely gone past the minute before.

'You can tell me anything.'

'I,' she began, her voice disappearing into soft tears. Emily squeezed Gina's shoulder and sat patiently, waiting, listening. 'I had a child when I was seventeen, before Naomi, she doesn't know.'

'Oh.'

Emily's mind paused, rewound and played the same small sentence over and over. What had she done offering an ear to Gina? Now she knew something massive about Naomi's life, which she knew nothing about. They'd barely even talked about her father and how disappointed she felt over his absence. Despite the fact she had lied to Emily on a number of occasions, the one thing Naomi hated more than injustice, was being lied to by the people she loved.

'Please keep this between us, Naomi can't,' Gina gasped, her voice catching on tears. 'I haven't been able to tell her.'

'Right,' Emily nodded, struggling to breath with the huge weight resting on her chest.

xxx

How Cook got from his grandparents' house to Gina's, he didn't know. Nor did he know where the two hours it took went. He unlocked the front door, dropping his key six times before realising he'd been using the wrong one. He slid off his shoes and walked slowly down the hallway. What the fuck did he do now? He didn't know. He couldn't process it. How could someone process something like that? He'd not just been lied to his whole life by the people who barely gave two shits about him, he was being lied to now, by the one woman he thought actually gave a crap. He reached out to the banister and lifted his foot to begin the ascent up the stairs, when a hand came down around his arm.

'Where are you going?' Emily questioned, her eyes just as wide as his.

'Fuck off,' he snapped, pushing her away and climbing the first two stairs.

'You'd better not be going to speak to Naomi,' Emily uttered, as though reading his mind. What the fuck? He tried to stay calm, but the rage building up inside was consuming him quickly. He didn't want to feel like he could hit her because he cared about her too much to do that, but at the same time, he wondered how many people actually knew. Had Naomi known the whole time? No, she couldn't have.

'I'll do what the fuck I want Emily.'

'Naomi's asleep, she's shattered. It's your fault for keeping her up at night, so leave her alone.'

'No,' he snapped, walking up the stairs again, but Emily wasn't giving up. She snaked up beside him until she stood as a barrier, with her hands on either side of the wall, her eyes bearing into him with confidence. No matter how small she was, she could be fucking scary sometimes.

'Please, Cook,' Emily begged, her voice breaking up as she closed her eyes. How could she tell him what she knew?

'What's going on?' Cook asked, frowning, confused by everything that had happened and was still happening.

'Gina told Naomi who her dad is, she's a mess.'

'Shit,' his brow furrowed as he tried to come to some sort of conclusion about what that meant. He could barely focus on his own problems, let alone someone else's. But Naomi was his best friend, no; she was his sister, half-sister at least. 'Is she alright?'

'I don't know Cook; would you be alright if you found out that your mate's uncle was your dad?'

'Sam?'

'Yeah.'

Bile travelled up into the back of his throat as his stomach twisted in knots. Full sister. _Fuck_. He pushed Emily out of the way and ran to the bathroom.

xxx

Cigarettes had always been the only dependable part of life, they didn't lie, they didn't pretend, they didn't shout. They just allowed him to breathe in their toxins and relaxed him with every inch smoked. If cigarettes could fuck, they'd be the perfect companion in life and love. Better than people anyway. Wherever he looked, whoever he thought of, all he could see was disappointment and pain. All his life he'd believed he was a Cook, son of a complete waste of space and a semi-famous grotesque artist. There was Paddy, but at ten, he was barely old enough to follow everyone else. Probably for the best social services wouldn't let him have him once he got out, he'd not been a very good role model after all.

Then there was Gina and Naomi, his other family, the family he thought he made for himself. Instead they'd been lying to him for as long as knew them. At least Gina had, talking to him like a son, telling him how proud she was, yet failing to mention the one thing he wished she had. Quite frankly, he would have been pretty fucking happy to have Gina Campbell as his mother, but she hadn't _told_ him the truth.

Not forgetting, JJ, his best friend for years. The one person in life he expected to be a constant and he was too fucking busy with his girlfriend and her snotty nosed kid. Working at the cash and carry together, attending lectures at the university, pretending that he hadn't been friends with a known criminal. Sure, they'd gone out, once. But life always seemed to get in the way whenever he tried again and having moved house, he had no idea where JJ even lived.

There was always Freddie, the fun sponge, but a fun sponge he fucking loved and missed daily. If he hadn't been killed then maybe he'd have stuck around. But he had, by that fucking cunt Foster. What was he supposed to do without his friends? Without family? The only person who refused to leave him was his fucking probation officer and even he wouldn't be around forever. No, cigarettes were the only thing he could rely on to be there, to comfort him, to make him feel better.

'Alright?'

He twisted around on the bench, hoping to see Naomi stood there. His disappointment was evident as Emily looked back at him sorrowfully.

'Sorry Emilio, thought you were Naomikins.'

'She's asleep,' Emily said, sitting down next to him. 'Finally came home half an hour ago, looked like she'd drowned herself. Guess she went swimming.'

'How is she, other than wet?' he asked, holding out his cigarette packet, she refused. Always was a good girl.

'Not good. I honestly don't know what to do James, she's in a state and all I can do is sit there, keeping this from her.'

It had become normal for Emily to lie and keep things from the people she loved, pretending she was something she wasn't. She'd put on a performance, for years, to appease the worries of her family. She'd hated every second of it and yet it was vital that she did it. She glanced back into the house. Then she'd lied for Naomi, kept their relationship a secret in order to keep her. She'd hated that too but if she hadn't, they wouldn't be in a relationship. Why was it so different now? Why was lying to protect someone so much harder than lying to protect yourself?

'She should know.'

'Gina made me promise,' she said, shaking her head. She reached out and took Cook's cigarettes from him, resting one in her mouth until he lit it for her. 'I can't do that to her.'

'Didn't make me promise.'

He stood up, adamant to fix the sorry mess. Naomi was his sister and she had no idea. He needed her to know, he needed to feel like someone was on his side. He couldn't hold his tongue, not where Naomi was concerned.

'No.'

Emily stood up, blocking his path towards the house. He turned away. She smirked victorious and he rolled his eyes. She could try to stop him and he would resist, but it couldn't last forever. Eventually, he would have to tell her. Someone would have to tell her.

'She's finding this difficult enough; she doesn't need to know that Gina still hasn't told her everything. Not tonight.'

'Fuck this shit Emily,' he shouted, walking over to the bins and kicking them repeatedly, pulling one of them over before smashing his foot into it again. He only stopped when Emily's hand rested on his shoulder, a gentle reminder that actually, he wasn't alone and despite everything, someone would support him.

'She's my fucking sister,' he wailed, resting his face against Emily's neck.

'I know,' Emily replied, her voice almost as broken as his. She hated seeing anyone cry. It usually made her laugh when her brother got upset. With Cook, it broke her heart because she knew that whatever he was feeling, Naomi would eventually have to feel too.

'Fucking hell am I glad we never slept together,' he sighed, rolling his head back. 'I know I love a good shag and I always thought Naomi would be a good shag. But incest, it's sick.'

'And illegal.'

'Laws don't mean nothing to me,' Cook said, his anger plummeting suddenly. 'Fucking glad we didn't do it though.'

'If you did, I'd hate you, you know that right?'

'Of course.'

**I hope you enjoyed it, please review :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author: **Miss Peg

**Warnings:** Lots of swearing and a bit of violence.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Skins...ah well.

**Summary: **When Cook gets out of prison having served time for absconding, he moves in with Naomi, Emily and Gina. After the death of his mother, Cook is faced with questions about his past. With Naomi's help, they go on an emotional journey which results in a revelation that could change both of their lives.

**Notes:** _Written for the __**Skins Big Bang **__on LiveJournal. I'm really sorry it's taken me so long to finish updating this. I guess I've been a bit disheartened because I worked so hard on it and only a few people seem to have given any feedback. I've also had some personal problems which are really affecting my writing, I hope that will change in 2012. I hope everyone's had a Merry Christmas and since I doubt anything will be posted until 2012 (and even then it'll mostly be The Mentalist related as I co-hosted/took part in their Big Bang which took a lot of effort) a very Happy New Year as well._

**Part Nine**

They woke to loud banging coming from the floor below, the front door, Naomi guessed. She couldn't wake quickly enough as the banging continued, until an almighty smash of the front door followed and a ruckus downstairs. Emily moved to get dressed beside her but Naomi moved slower, her heart racing as she pictured all sorts of horrible events following.

'Police!'

Naomi pulled on her clothes from the night before, urgently, the warning from the police downstairs told her they'd probably check every room. Not the first time they'd turned up at the house, only this time she could see no reason for their visit. Emily reached out for Naomi's hand, which she linked with her own, a small piece of stability in a mess of confusion. She tugged her out of the bedroom and towards the stairs at the same time two officers in uniform reached the top.

'Where is he?' one shouted in their faces, uncaring for the distraught look they shared.

'I'm 'ere.'

The bedroom door across the hall opened slowly, cautiously and Cook edged out of his room, wearing his boxers and a pair of socks. He scratched the back of his head and held both hands up against it. He didn't know why they were there, could never be sure of the reason where the police were concerned. But he knew it must be serious by the disgusted look in their eyes as they took hold of him, cuffing his wrists together with little care or attention.

'James Cook, I'm arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Doctor John Foster. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be used as evidence. Do you understand?'

The part of Cook's throat which moved in order to talk ceased action, he opened and closed his mouth, but to no avail. He'd been expecting this, deep down; he knew that one day it would probably happen. That didn't stop the shock of it happening now, today.

'Do you fucking understand?' one of the officers asked, kicking his knees, not hard enough to cause damage but enough to knock him down.

'Yes,' he gasped, closing his eyes, anything to block out the image of Naomi and Emily stood watching the furore.

'I'll get some clothes,' said one of the officers, disappearing into Cook's bedroom.

The other officer guided him towards the stairs, which they took one step at a time, moving at a pace worse than stopped. He caught Gina's eyes as she stood at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes darting about in her head with as much pain and suffering as he would expect of a mother. A mother who loved him. Not like Ruth, who had only ever looked at him with contempt. He choked back tears, trying his best to maintain a level of calm. Anything to avoid the taunting he would receive from the police if he were to fall apart. Nothing prepared him for Gina's tears as the police moved him away.

'I can't believe this is happening,' said Naomi, following Cook down the stairs with Emily close by.

Emily wrapped her free arm around Gina, despite her shaking beside her. She held on tightly to Naomi's hand. She wanted to cry too, but someone had to be strong and Naomi's eyes had already begun to flood.

'They said he killed Foster,' Emily muttered, finding the whole situation incomprehensible. It couldn't be true, he wouldn't do that. Cook was an angry person, had beaten someone to a pulp and that was why he went to prison. But he wasn't capable of murder.

'They're fucking lying,' Naomi snapped, pacing down the hallway and watching the police car drive away. The blue lights had become a painful reminder that Cook was not invincible and no matter how hard he splashed about, people couldn't behave that way without getting caught.

A phone rang loudly upstairs, Emily rubbed Gina's back and took the stairs two at a time to retrieve her mobile. When she returned to the stairs her face had turned a pale shade of white and tears rested on her cheeks. Naomi furrowed her brow and walked over, waiting patiently for her conversation to end.

'That was Katie,' she whispered, her voice tiny and useless against the backdrop of a ticking clock and a tap in the kitchen dripping. 'They found Foster, dead. Then when they searched his house.'

Naomi filled the gap between them, her arms reached out around Emily's hips, watching Emily's features as she carefully retold the conversation she'd had with her sister on the phone.

'They're not sure but they think Foster killed Freddie,' Emily paused; she had too much saliva in her mouth and felt sick. 'They think Cook killed Foster because of it.'

'No,' Gina said, her voice more of a scream as she ran out of the room, her wails the only thing left as she closed her bedroom door behind her.

In that moment, as Gina's cries could be heard throughout the house, Emily reached her arms out to Naomi whose legs gave way. She guided her to the floor where they sat, silently. They took every second as it came, each breath significant in the task of staying alive. How could Cook kill anyone? She couldn't understand any of it. She pawed at her cheeks and rested her head against Emily's shoulder as they sat together, contemplating their reality. Freddie had disappeared, that much had been clear, but murdered? By someone they had all trusted to take care of Effy? And now Cook was being arrested for _his_ murder. She shook her head, adamant that whatever evidence they had would be false. She pushed Emily away and jumped to her feet, taking her jacket off the banister before running out of the front door.

xxx

The world pulled Emily in too many directions, none of which she wanted to follow. Naomi had gone and though she wished to be by her side, for her own sake as well as Naomi's, she knew her girlfriend well enough to give her space. Then Katie's cries on the other end of phone dragged her heart in the direction of home, her real home, the home belonging to her family. She missed them and though she visited often, she missed feeling like a part of them. Not the weird outsider she had become. But the biggest tug on her heart strings was the loud, broken-hearted sobbing coming from another room. How could she leave Gina now? The woman who had given her a home, supported her, loved her like a daughter, she couldn't abandon her. Even if what she really wanted was to be alone, to grieve for her lost friends.

She hesitated by the door, wondering how much support Gina actually needed and whether she was the right person for the job. She contemplated calling a doctor but instead opened the door and tentatively walked inside.

'Gina?'

She turned on her bed, lifted her head up to Emily with a weak smile, but her eyes were swollen and her nose ran heavily upon her top lip. She looked worse than Emily felt. Emily walked over and sat beside her, pulling her into her arms where they sat for a while. She didn't know what to do for the best, so didn't do anything as Gina clung to her sobbing.

'He's your son,' Emily whispered finally, her tone apologetic and sad.

'How,' Gina began but her voice trailed away with more tears.

'He knows Gina,' Emily told her. 'He found out for himself.'

'Oh.'

'I don't think he could have asked for a better mum,' she smiled, wiping at her cheeks as Gina had done on many occasions. 'I sometimes wish you were mine.'

'Thank you.'

'How long have you known?'

'Not long.'

'Really?'

It surprised Emily that Gina hadn't realised before, that the friend her daughter had brought home was the child she'd given up long ago. But people change, they look different once they've grown.

'When I first met him he made me think of his dad, but I thought it was a coincidence. I didn't know until he started asking questions about his real parents and then Sam called me.'

'Naomi's dad?'

'Yes,' Gina looked around the room, her eyes fixed on the open doorway. She was thankful to Emily for helping her through the hardest part of the shock. How does one deal with the news that their son has been arrested for murder? But what she worried about the most, in that moment, was Naomi. 'Is she here?'

'No, she left; I don't know where she went.'

'Does she know?' Gina questioned, the sheer thought of Naomi finding out the truth was a weight on her heart that she couldn't bear to carry. Her daughter had always come first and though James mattered, a part of her would always think of the child she brought up.

'No. I wouldn't tell her. I promised. I don't know what James will do though, he wants her to know.'

'I can't lose her Emily; I can't lose both of them.'

xxx

The police station had never felt a more frightening place as it had on that morning. As Naomi stood in the entrance, a man dragged a teenage boy inside shouting at him for an arson attack. Of course Naomi knew things happened, she'd seen her fair share of criminal action and had even participated a little. But even she hadn't expected the sheer level of activity that went on at just one of the city stations.

'Can I see him yet?' she asked the duty sergeant as she walked through to the hub of the station.

'Miss Campbell, there are more crimes in Bristol than your friend's; I don't have time to be chasing up on the progress of his arrest.'

'Please,' Naomi begged, taking hold of the woman's upper arm.

'If you don't let go of me right now Miss, I'll arrest you for obstructing police investigation. Now sit down and someone will come to you _if_ you are allowed to see Mr Cook.'

'But,' Naomi tried, her heart racing anxiously.

The sergeant looked at her with steely eyes, her attention never wavering as Naomi tried to hold her gaze. But the woman stared at her adamantly. Naomi returned to the plastic chairs by the wall, not the least bit comfortable for long periods of time, but better than nothing.

After waiting for what felt like an eternity, despite it only being an hour, the duty sergeant informed her, as she passed through the building, that she would be allowed to have a brief visit with Cook before he was transferred to the local remand centre.

'Remand centre?' she frowned. 'I thought you had to question him before that.'

'We have questioned him and he's been very helpful.'

'So you're charging him based on probably flimsy evidence?' Naomi rolled her eyes and tried to remember everything she knew about police work from the few television shows she'd seen. She didn't think affairs in the sergeant's office would be very helpful, but as she looked the plump older lady up and down, the very idea of her having a steamy affair with an attractive younger staff member made her chuckle.

'Everyone thinks they understand the law because they've seen a few episodes of The Bill,' the sergeant uttered. 'Your friend told us everything, he's admitted his guilt, there's nothing more we can do until he gets a hearing.'

'Guilty?' Naomi asked, her throat constricting with the onset of tears, which hung as a lump in the back of her throat. She wanted to cry, but in order to get any more information out of the woman; she needed to remain stable.

'I'm very busy Miss Campbell, as much as I'd love to give your homicidal friend all of my attention, I have a job to do,' she laughed, sarcastically. Naomi scowled as she walked away. Fucking useless. Call them a public service; she couldn't see any service in the job role. And Cook wasn't a murderer, he couldn't be.

xxx

'What the fuck is this about you pleading guilty?' Naomi asked as soon as she was allowed to enter the room to see Cook. He looked tired, the bags under his eyes had grown in size she last saw him. It was good to see him though.

'I did it Naomi, I smashed his fucking face in and I'd do it again if the situation was repeated. Nobody touches my fucking friends, you understand that, don't you Naomikins? If anyone touched Emily.' 

Her stomach twisted in knots and the slow moving cloud lingering over her earlier that morning, had returned with full force.

'You did it?' she asked, her hands shaking on the table in front of her.

'Don't look so fucking surprised Naomi; you know what I'm capable of.'

'But,' she tried but lost the will to speak as Cook interrupted her.

'Ain't no one gonna change me, we both know that. Not like I were gonna tell you what I'd done, is it? I'm fucked 'til the day I die.'

'James.'

Naomi rested her right hand over her mouth and covered it with her left. She shook her head and stared into his eyes, the eyes of a killer, the eyes of her best friend. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it lodged itself there, until she began choking on tears.

'Only difference now,' Cook looked at her dolefully. 'Is I have people I love, people I would take it all back to be able to be happy with.'

'I wish you didn't do that,' she cried, reaching out to his hand which she held tightly. 'I wish, I wish you wouldn't have told them.'

'No point lying anymore Naomikins,' Cook replied, squeezing her hand, giving her back some of the comfort she was giving him. 'Keeping secrets. If I want to make my mum proud of me, it's gotta be 'cause I owed up to my mistakes.'

'Your mum? You found her?'

'Guess she still didn't tell you yet.'

'Who?' Naomi frowned.

'Thing is Naomikins,' Cook stared at the table between them, at her other hand as it sat beside his, hands that actually weren't that fucking different to his own, now that he thought about it. 'It kind of makes us brother and sister.'

'I don't understand.'

She couldn't have been hearing him right; there must have been a problem. He'd gone crazy, a couple of hours in the police station and he'd lost the plot already. Why else would he be saying things like that?

'Your mum and Uncle Sam, only he's not my uncle and I'm pretty sure he's not yours either.' 

Naomi dropped Cook's hand upon the table and pushed her chair away, the whole world had begun spinning and her stomach churned with sickness. This was some big fucking joke. First Cook's uncle was her dad, then Cook had been arrested for murder, now he was saying they were brother and sister. She couldn't accept that, none of it, it was all a fucking sick joke that someone was playing. There'd be a camera somewhere, watching her, that fucking Ashton Kutcher show. It had to be. There was no other explanation. Except, Gina had reacted badly to Cook's arrest and she'd taken him in like a son, she'd treated him like a prince, not an ex-con.

**I hope you enjoyed it, please review :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author: **Miss Peg

**Warnings:** Lots of swearing and a bit of violence.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Skins...ah well.

**Summary: **When Cook gets out of prison having served time for absconding, he moves in with Naomi, Emily and Gina. After the death of his mother, Cook is faced with questions about his past. With Naomi's help, they go on an emotional journey which results in a revelation that could change both of their lives.

**Notes:** _Written for the __**Skins Big Bang **__on LiveJournal. This is it, the final curtain on this story. Thank you for all of the reviews I've had and for any reviews I will get for this chapter too. I appreciate each and every reader and I hope you will be happy with the conclusion._

**Part Ten**

Emily appeared in the kitchen doorway when Naomi entered the house, her eyes open wide as though she'd been waiting for her to come back. Naomi rested her jacket back on the banister and walked slowly towards her. Her mouth opened and closed, as though she wanted to ask a question, but couldn't find the right words.

'I went to see James,' said Naomi, chewing on her bottom lip.

'Oh,' Emily whispered, avoiding Naomi's eyes as she busied herself with the tea. 

The worst thing about knowing someone very well was that you knew when they were lying and hearing Emily's voice left Naomi with a bitter taste in her mouth. She choked on another lump in her throat as it exploded with tears.

'You know, don't you?'

'I,' Emily tried to respond but there was very little she could say and Naomi was too worked up to allow her to speak.

'Cook knows, you know, does _everyone_ fucking know?'

'It's not like that Naomi, I've only known for a couple of days.'

'A couple of days? We spent all of last night together and you didn't think to fucking tell me?'

'This wasn't my thing to tell Naomi,' Emily whispered, defensive and shaken. She expected a fall out, that much was certain, but she hadn't prepared herself for the reaction Naomi would have if she found out that she had known. 'Do you really think I would have kept it from you if I didn't think you deserved to hear it from your mum?'

'What do you expect me to think?' Naomi shouted, her face red and blotchy. 'Keeping your little secrets, talking about it behind my back. You've probably been fucking laughing about it.'

'Naomi,' Emily begged.

'Don't talk to me like that,' Naomi snapped, her eyes watering again. 'Christ, you can't put on your sad voice and expect me to forgive you.'

'This isn't Emily's fault,' Gina interrupted, appearing in the kitchen behind her daughter.

'Jesus, keep your fucking nose out of it Gina,' Naomi shouted, walking across the kitchen away from her mother. She'd expected her to be angry, but she'd been living in hope that Naomi's anger would subside quickly. Nothing had prepared her for the sheer level of hate lingering in her eyes. 'Don't you think you've done enough getting my girlfriend to lie to me? Keeping secrets my whole life?'

'I did it because I love you.'

'You love me so much that you never told me I had a brother, that my fucking best friend is my brother.'

Gina doubted her words from the bluntness of Naomi's, she was right. She loved her and yet she'd kept secrets from her all of her life. How could she ask for her forgiveness or expect her sympathy when she had done nothing to deserve it?

'I couldn't tell you,' she cried, feeling her daughter slipping out of her grasp. She couldn't lose her, why didn't she understand that?

'No, Gina, you _wouldn't_ tell me, there's a fucking difference,' Naomi spat, disgustedly. 'You've always been a coward, this is proof of that.'

'You don't know everything, I don't care what James told you. You need to know everything, I need to explain.'

'I don't fucking want you to explain, I don't need to know.'

'You do.'

If she didn't explain then Naomi wouldn't know and if Naomi didn't know, then she had no hope of ever getting her daughter back. She reached out to her, tried to take her into her arms, but Naomi backed away. Slowly Naomi was slipping away and there was nothing Gina could do but watch.

'Leave me the fuck alone,' she uttered under her breath. 'I don't want to know.'

She turned to Emily who stood in the corner silently, her eyes filled with tears and she looked at Gina apologetically. There wasn't much she could do, if there was, she'd be doing it. Instead she apologised briefly and ran off up the stairs after Naomi.

xxx

The kind officer at the front desk allowed her in to see Cook, much to Gina's delight. She sat at the table, her nerves shot. She was meeting her son for the first time, the first time where they both knew who the other one was. He walked in wearing the clothes he'd left the house in. Gina's hand covered her mouth as an officer helped Cook to sit down, his hands cuffed in front of him.

'I'm sorry,' she said, wiping her tear stained cheeks.

'I wish you'd just told me Gina, I wouldn't have cared, I mean, I wouldn't have been as angry as I felt standing finding out from your parents.'

'You saw my mum and dad?'

'Yeah, Sam sent me round there and they told me all about you, like I didn't know who you were. I couldn't think about it. You're Gina, you weren't my mum. _But you are_.'

'I wish this had all been different.'

'Me too. Now Naomikins is fucked off because I told her and I know it should've been you. I hated finding out from someone else.'

'I tried to explain to her,' said Gina, reaching out to hold Cook's hands. 'She didn't want to listen.'

'She'll come around Ginakins,' he smiled, taking back his hands to wrap around Gina's. 'She knows she's got a good thing with you. Might take a while, but she couldn't hate you forever.'

'I'm so sorry I didn't find you.'

'Why didn't you?' he asked, leaning forwards.

'I tried, believe me,' she said, shaking the tears from her cheeks. 'But they took you somewhere outside of Bristol and then, I had no chance.'

'What do you mean?'

'When I had you it was the happiest and worst day of my life.'

'Worst day?' he frowned.

'When you were born you were this little bundle, a little boy wrapped up in a hospital blanket and I loved you so much. I still love you more than I could have imagined possible,' she paused, and brushed her hair back from her face. 'But my mum and dad, they weren't nice people James; they didn't want a grandchild to be born out of wedlock.'

He remembered the lovely old couple he'd met earlier that week and the way they'd treated him like a grandparent should. He couldn't imagine them as the strict parents they must have been, but then again, time mellowed people and so did losing your loved ones.

'I couldn't let them take you away and give them to some friends of theirs who were going to adopt you. I couldn't let them do that,' Gina said, shaking her head.

'So you gave me to Sam?' asked Cook.

'I took you to Sam's house but we were only young, seventeen. We let Ruth look after you. Just for a year. Until, I was old enough to move out of home. Then I was going to take you home.'

'But they took me to Derby.'

'They took you a couple of months after I gave you to them,' she said, holding her hands together tightly to stop them from shaking. 'I went to see you like I had done every day that I could. When Sam told me what they'd done I didn't know what to do.'

'It's okay, Gina, I understand.'

'On your first birthday I went to see Sam and that was how Naomi came into the world. When I found out I was pregnant again, I moved out.'

'With Sam?'

'No, just me and Naomi. He didn't want us, he never did. I think being a dad of two before he'd even turned nineteen was the last thing he ever wanted.'

'The shitty little prick,' he said, repeating words he'd heard Naomi use many times. He smiled at Gina, at his mother.

'Yeah,' she smiled back. 'If I could go back I wouldn't give you away.'

'Nah,' he slouched back against his chair. 'No regrets Gina, okay? There's nothing we can do about the past. We can only fix the now.'

The now was the time she most worried about with a daughter who hated her for lying and a son who was stuck in a police cell for murdering someone. She did have regrets and though she wished for the same response to her past as Cook, she couldn't force it.

'Is that why you told them everything?' she asked, frowning.

'I want you to be proud of me,' he said, sitting up straight and resting his arms neatly in front of him.

'I _am_ proud of you, James, for all of the things you have done to make your life better, despite having a difficult upbringing.'

'I'm sorry I did it,' he said, staring at his hands. 'I'm sorry that I won't get to be part of your family.'

'You'll always be part of my family,' she smiled with tears glistening in her eyes. 'The biggest part, you and Naomi. You're my little boy.'

'I'm sorry I ruined it all.'

'You didn't, you gave me a few months of being your mother and that's all I've ever wished for.'

'But it could have been longer.'

'Or it could have been none at all.'

'Time's up,' said the officer from his position by the door. Cook looked from the uniformed officer to Gina and stood up in front of her. She filled the gap between them and wrapped her arms tightly around his body.

'I love you, James, don't forget that.'

As the officer pulled him towards the door, Gina wiped hastily at the growing number of tears upon her cheeks. He stopped in the doorway, his eyes equally filled as they shared one final look.

'I love you too, mum.'

xxx

Naomi sat in her room as she'd done nearly every single day since Cook's arrest. She didn't feel much like socialising, nor did she feel like facing her mother. The woman who lied to her for nineteen years. She didn't understand why, yet knew the only way she would get answers was to ask. Despite not speaking to her, or staying in the same room for much longer than a minute or so, she knew that her mother's heart was broken.

'There's a memorial for Freddie next week,' Emily said, sitting down on the bed and wrapping her arms around Naomi's shoulders. She held onto her arms and relished in the comfort her girlfriend always brought.

'Cook's hearing is tomorrow,' she said, as though it was the only piece of information that really mattered.

'I think you need to speak to her, Naomi.'

'Not right now.'

She'd answered the same way every time that Emily had asked. If Emily had recorded her on her phone, she could have played the correct response without even needing to ask the question. There was little she could do but try her best to repair the shattered relationship of her second family.

'Tomorrow she's going to be losing her son officially, for the second time,' Emily said, sitting back against their pillows.

'So?' Naomi turned her head to Emily.

'You don't mean that.'

'No, I don't.'

'I think you need to hear why she did it,' Emily whispered.

'Christ, another thing she's told the fucking world before she told me.'

'I asked,' Emily snapped. 'Which is more than you've managed to do.'

'I,' Naomi began, her throat paralysed. 'I don't know, how to.'

'Then just sit with her, let her know that you're not going anywhere.'

Naomi nodded her head and climbed off the bed, not quite sure why she felt the need to respond to Emily's suggestions, now of all days. She'd had plenty of chance and yet she hadn't taken the opportunity before now. The eve of Cook's hearing. She knew what tomorrow would bring, they all did.

'Mum?' Naomi muttered, pushing open her bedroom door, but to no avail. She wandered through the house but could find her mother nowhere. On the journey back to her room, she spotted Cook's bedroom door partially open and from inside she could hear her mother sobbing.

She pushed on the door and stood facing Gina, watching her as she stared up in surprise. Her eyes hallowed out and her face as red as it had been the day she discovered the truth.

'Mum?' Naomi cried, stepping forwards until the space between them was gone and she was holding her tightly. She missed the comfort of her mother's arms.

'Oh, Naomi,' Gina said, her eyes leaking out across Naomi's shoulder. If she hadn't felt so utterly sad, she'd probably have shouted at her.

They sat together, curled up in each other's arms as Gina's tears subsided, it was only then that Naomi smiled at her, showed her the love that she still felt for the woman who always took care of her.

'I'm ready to find out about what happened,' she said, holding Gina's hand.

'Are you sure?' Naomi nodded. 'Okay.'

xxx

Naomi dropped her phone and bag into a grey plastic box and walked through the metal detector in the entrance to the court. She collected her belongings on the other side and waited for Emily and Gina to join her before they walked up the stairs to the court room. She reached out to Emily's hand which she squeezed.

'Everything's going to be fine,' said Emily, squeezing her hand back.

'I fucking hope so.'

They found three seats together at the front of public gallery where they sat silently. Emily held on tightly to Naomi's left hand, whilst she held on to her mother's on her other side. As Cook entered the court room with an officer on either side of him, her hand tightened around Naomi's.

'Can the defendant please stand,' the judge ordered.

Standing up, Cook waited patiently for further instructions. He listened as the judge explained the charges to the rest of the court. He fucking hated being dressed in a suit, but Gina had dropped it off at the prison and he wanted to look smart, for her. He turned around and caught her eye, sending her a small smile.

'How do you plead?'

'Guilty,' said Cook, leaning forward towards the microphone.

'Mr Cook, due to the severity of the charges you will no doubt be given a custodial sentence. Your guilty plea may or may not have an effect on the length served. I advise that you to keep your head down whilst you await sentencing. Do you understand?'

'Yes, your honour.'

'Sentencing will be set for two weeks from today, take him away.'

The proceedings ended and Cook was taken from the courtroom. Gina stood up and rushed from the gallery, followed by Naomi and Emily. She didn't want to miss seeing him one last time, so she ran out towards the exit. She didn't stop until she'd reached the gate between the prison van and the main street.

'James,' she shouted, as an officer guided him into the back of the van. She waved and he smiled back at her. Then he was gone.

'Mum,' Naomi said, pulling Gina away from the gate as it opened automatically.

'I needed to say goodbye.'

'I know.'

'I can't lose you too, Naomi, please don't make me lose you too.'

'You won't,' Naomi smiled, wrapping her arms around Gina's shoulders.

The gates opened and the prison van drove down the street. When it disappeared out of sight, Gina's knees gave way and she collapsed into Naomi's arms. Her face covered in tears as she sobbed against her shoulder. Naomi clung to her, wishing for all the pain and suffering they'd felt to disappear. Their lives had taken a direction she had never expected and though she couldn't quite handle the truth of her mother's lies, she still loved her dearly and aside from Emily, she was the only person she had left.

**THE END**

**Final Author Note: **Some of you may not be entirely happy with this ending and for that I'm sorry but I'm not sorry for how it ended. This was always my intention, it had to be, you may not understand why it's ended this way and I'm not even completely sure of why it has, it just felt right. It broke my heart to end it this way in the same way that it broke my heart to end Ten Feet Under the way I did. I firmly believe that unhappy endings are just as powerful, if not more so, than a nicely wrapped up story with a little bow on it. I hope you've enjoyed this journey because I have and knowing some of you have too makes me happy. Thanks again for reading and for any reviews, etc., they make me smile at a time when I quite frankly need all the happys I can get. Much love.


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